Dear Ex, It's My Turn

Dear Ex, It's My Turn

QueenGlam

5.0
Comment(s)
7.4K
View
87
Chapters

Lana Rhoades thought love was on her side until her ex-husband whom she love so much handed her a divorce letter and brought another, Lana sworn to get back on her ex-husband but when the opportunity came it became the most difficult thing for her to do.

Dear Ex, It's My Turn Chapter 1 1

I crouched on the icy marble floor, my knees throbbing in agony as I scrubbed with the last remnants of my strength. A sharp, burning pain pulsed through my arms and legs, a brutal reminder of the countless hours I had spent doing this, not just today, but every single day since I became Theo Ivan's wife.

This was my life now. Cleaning, scrubbing, cooking, an endless cycle of chores that Theo insisted were for my own good.

"You need this," he'd said with that charming smile of his, shortly after firing all the maids. "It'll help you lose weight and stay active."

I had believed him. What choice did I have?

I paused, panting like I'd just run a marathon. My chest heaved, my body trembling, begging me to stop, to rest. But I didn't. I couldn't.

How long can I keep doing this? The thought gnawed at me as I wiped sweat from my forehead. Slowly, I stood, wincing as pain lanced through my knees like needles piercing bone. Swallowing the groan rising in my throat, I forced myself upright and surveyed the space I had just cleaned.

The floor sparkled under the light of the chandelier. It was spotless. Perfect. At least it was worth it, I thought bitterly. With a shaky breath, I gathered the cleaning tools and trudged toward the janitor's closet. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if my body were collapsing under the weight of its own exhaustion.

But I kept moving. I had to. These chores weren't just tasks, they were my lifeline. My only way to get in shape. My only way to keep Theo happy.

I dumped the tools into the closet and leaned against the door, my mind drifting to the memories that had brought me here. Memories I had tried so hard to bury.

I was always too much. Too big, too heavy, too wrong.

With a BMI of 30, I didn't fit into society's rigid mold of beauty. And because of that, I didn't fit into anyone's idea of love, either.

My first date? A disaster. I had met him at one of New York's finest restaurants, desperate to impress. I wore a dress so tight it bit into my skin, the fabric digging into my ribs with every step.

But all my efforts had been in vain. The moment he saw me, his face twisted in disgust. He barely masked his displeasure, staying through dinner only because he realized I was footing the bill. Afterward, he left without a goodbye, leaving me alone at the table, humiliated and broken.

That night, I cried myself to sleep in my mother's arms, the only person who never judged me. But even she wasn't mine for long. Fate took her and my father from me in a car accident, leaving me alone with nothing but their memory and the fortune they left behind.

Until Theo.

Theo was a miracle. The first man who looked at me without flinching. He didn't judge me for my size, my looks, or my inheritance. When he saw me...

He showered me with the kind of love I had only dreamed of. He held my hand in public, unbothered by the stares and whispers. "I love you," he'd say, loud enough for the world to hear, gripping my hand as if daring anyone to challenge him.

But love, I realized too late, can be a cruel illusion.

By the time I finished preparing his favorite breakfast, I heard the sound of his footsteps. My heart lifted instinctively, my body responding to the thought of him before my mind could catch up.

"My love, I made your favorite," I said, my voice warm as I approached him. I leaned in for our customary morning kiss.

But Theo stepped back, cold and abrupt.

I froze, my smile faltering. "What's wrong, honey?" I asked, my voice soft, unsure. My mind raced for answers. Did I smell of sweat from the chores? Why is he acting strange all of a sudden? "Do I stink? Don't worry, I'll shower before you leave for work."

He didn't respond. His dark brows furrowed, his jaw clenched. Without a word, he extended a file toward me.

"Sign them. We're done, Lana."

His words hit me like a blow. My chest tightened, and I struggled to catch my breath. My trembling hands took the file as if on autopilot. "What's this?" I whispered, my voice barely audible, fear clawing at my insides.

Theo looked away, guilt flickering briefly in his expression before he hid it. He didn't explain. He just stood there, silent and unyielding.

I opened the file with shaking hands, pulling out the neatly typed document inside.

Divorce Agreement.

The bold title blurred through the tears welling in my eyes. "Divorce?" I choked out, my voice cracking.

"Yes, Lana. I'm done with you," he said flatly. His voice carried no trace of the affection it once held.

"No... no, Theo," I stammered, tears streaming freely now. "You promised me. You said you'd never leave me. You said you loved me-"

"Enough!" he snapped, his voice cutting like a blade. "Did you really think I'd spend the rest of my life with this?" He gestured at me with disgust.

I staggered back, clutching the papers to my chest, shaking my head in disbelief.

"You're pathetic, Lana. A burden. Sign the papers."

I stared at him, desperately searching for some trace of the man who had once held my hand so tightly, who had stood by my side and declared his love for me. But he was gone.

The Theo I knew had been a lie.

I had given him everything. My love, my trust, my very sense of self. I had sacrificed my dreams, my dignity, and my freedom for a man who saw me as nothing more than a stepping stone.

And now, he was discarding me like I was nothing.

I clutched the papers tighter, the weight of his betrayal crashing down on me. Tears blurred my vision as my chest heaved, the ache inside me far greater than any pain I had felt from cleaning or scrubbing floors.

Continue Reading

You'll also like

My Reborn Husband Didn't Choose Me? I Flash Married a Firefighter!

My Reborn Husband Didn't Choose Me? I Flash Married a Firefighter!

Sibeal Sallese
5.0

For seven years, I drank the bitter tonic my fiancé, Alpha Adrian, gave me, believing it would cure my "wolfless" defect. I was wrong. It was poison. He wasn't trying to heal me; he was keeping me weak so he could replace me with my foster sister, Ariel. When the fire consumed the Alpha's Wing, I was trapped under a burning beam, my legs crushed. Adrian kicked down the door. I reached out to him, screaming for help. But he didn't look at me. He looked at Ariel, who was lying on the floor in a silk nightgown. He scooped her up, cradling her like she was the only thing that mattered. I begged him not to leave me. Instead of helping, he used his Alpha Command on me, his voice booming with supernatural weight. "Stay put! I'll be back for you!" It was a lie. He used his power to freeze me in the inferno and left me to burn alive. I survived, only to watch him publicly reject me for her the next day, with my own father's blessing. They called me a "genetic dead end." They thought I would crawl away and die in shame. I didn't. I limped up the mountain to the Neutral Lands to find the one man everyone fears-the exiled Alpha, Garth Morgan. "I have the Gamma Bloodline Scroll," I told the massive figure emerging from the shadows. "I don't want your gratitude," Garth growled, his eyes like storm clouds. "I'm not here for gratitude," I replied, staring him down. "I'm here to make a deal with the devil."

Secret Triplets: The Billionaire's Second Chance

Secret Triplets: The Billionaire's Second Chance

Roderic Penn
4.5

I stood at my mother’s open grave in the freezing rain, my heels sinking into the mud. The space beside me was empty. My husband, Hilliard Holloway, had promised to cherish me in bad times, but apparently, burying my mother didn't fit into his busy schedule. While the priest’s voice droned on, a news alert lit up my phone. It was a livestream of the Metropolitan Charity Gala. There was Hilliard, looking impeccable in a custom tuxedo, with his ex-girlfriend Charla English draped over his arm. The headline read: "Holloway & English: A Power Couple Reunited?" When he finally returned to our penthouse at 2 AM, he didn't come alone—he brought Charla with him. He claimed she’d had a "medical emergency" at the gala and couldn't be left alone. I found a Tiffany diamond necklace on our coffee table meant for her birthday, and a smudge of her signature red lipstick on his collar. When I confronted him, he simply told me to stop being "hysterical" and "acting like a child." He had no idea I was seven months pregnant with his child. He thought so little of my grief that he didn't even bother to craft a convincing lie, laughing with his mistress in our home while I sat in the dark with a shattered heart and a secret life growing inside me. "He doesn't deserve us," I whispered to the darkness. I didn't scream or beg. I simply left a folder on his desk containing signed divorce papers and a forged medical report for a terminated pregnancy. I disappeared into the night, letting him believe he had successfully killed his own legacy through his neglect. Five years later, Hilliard walked into "The Vault," the city's most exclusive underground auction, looking for a broker to manage his estate. He didn't recognize me behind my Venetian mask, but he couldn't ignore the neon pink graffiti on his armored Maybach that read "DEADBEAT." He had no clue that the three brilliant triplets currently hacking his security system were the very children he thought had been erased years ago. This time, I wasn't just a wife in the way; I was the one holding all the cards.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book