My gorgeous badluck

Abandoned Ex-Wife: Now Untouchable

Tao Yaoyao

My five-year-old daughter was dying in the ICU, her heartbeat replaced by the continuous, electronic scream of a flatline. I gripped her cold hand, my throat sealed shut by a terror so absolute I couldn't even cry out. I dialed my husband Grayson's private number, the one reserved only for me and his assistants. He declined the call instantly. A second later, a text buzzed against my palm: "In a meeting. Do not disturb. Stop calling." Five miles away, Grayson was at a luxury gala, adjusting his silk tie and laughing with Belle Escobar. He told her I was just being "dramatic" and using our daughter's "fever" as an excuse to avoid the event. He had no idea Effie's heart had already stopped. When I finally reached our penthouse, soaked from the rain and carrying Effie's small socks in a plastic bag, Grayson didn't even look at me. He snapped at me for ruining the hardwood floors and asked if I'd left Effie with the nanny just to "feel sorry for myself." Three days later, while I buried our daughter in a small, lonely ceremony, Grayson was at the Hamptons. Belle posted a photo of him golfing with the caption: "A mental health day with the boys." He didn't even attend the funeral, but he returned home demanding I clear out Effie's room to make a study for Belle's son. The injustice burned through me until there was nothing left. I swallowed a handful of sleeping pills, desperate to join my daughter. But instead of the darkness, I woke up to blinding lights and the scent of Grayson's expensive cologne. I was standing in a ballroom, wearing a blue silk dress I had already burned. Above me, a banner read: "Happy 5th Birthday Kaiden & Effie." I was back, exactly one year before the tragedy. This time, I wasn't going to be the grieving wife. I was going to be their worst nightmare.

Modern Parenting Ex-wife Drama

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People that are broken are terribly gorgeous.

"You placed a wager." Those four words shattered my heart. I was saying it out loud stung. I should have known better. I should've learned that the jock would never ask a lady like me out unless it was for his benefit.

"Yes." You'd think he'd be upset about it, but he wasn't.

He had a smug on his face. He could have cared less. I hadn't seen him with that look before. He was no longer the sweet, loving lover I had imagined him to be.

"How long will this last?" I asked.

"Five months," he said. "However, it was the longest five months of my life." Another hit to the chest. I felt as though I were in the film She's All That. It was odd because it was one of my favorite movies, and now I find myself in the same scenario.

"Why?" My voice cracked, humiliating me even more.

"You came up with an excellent challenge." He didn't care that he had torn my heart out and was now walking on the fragments. He was pleased with himself.

My body was malfunctioning. My eyes did not well up, at least not yet. I felt hollow. 'How could I have missed this?' was all I could think. 'Didn't you see that wasn't real?'

"I didn't expect it to take me five months to convince you to admit you love me, but getting in your trousers was worth it."

People stared at us. Of course, Mitch had to do it at the center of the school entrance, where everyone could see him. It was as though they summoned everyone to the front of the school. And those who weren't there would hear about it in less than 30 minutes. Whether you liked it or not, gossip spread quickly in high school.

"I didn't do-" I began to talk, but he cut me off. I never slept with him. We didn't do anything like that.

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