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Ex-Wife, Please Have Some Self-Respect

Chapter 3 No.3

Word Count: 1033    |    Released on: 19/01/2026

drop in air pressure before a storm. The music was still playing-a

as the echo of that

iber is no

table. A few drops of red liquid splashed onto

de her knees weak. He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "Don't let him ruin my birthday

ed. She pulled away from his touch.

ve the matching vest, but he still looked the part of the dashing artist. "Le

aggle of women in sequins and m

f them yelled. "Forget the h

e into Catarina's hand. An

s), cut the jazz and faded in the int

least, the song Atticus a

He looked at her with that intensity that she had spent three years pining for

cal. He moved closer to her, invading her personal space, cr

re's only you

nes came out to record

ips. She knew the words. She had sung t

h, her eyes darted to her

een was

rry, Cat." No "Are you ma

ld be promising to buy her a new dress, promising to make it up to her.

Not

bright..." Atticus sang

missed

ne. Was he hurt? Chloe sai

why didn't h

codependent. He couldn't make a decision about dinner without asking her

just out of chara

spered, covering t

, snapping back to reality. She

but her voice was flat. She w

before he masked it with a passionate high note that drowned her out. He stepped in fro

lite but enthusiastic. Atticus beamed, b

ook a half

physical rejectio

ir for a second before he smoothly conve

, his breath smelling of expe

er. A tray of shot

handing her a glass. "To us. An

he smell of the tequila hi

omach

ila on an empty stoma

He would have swapped this for a glass of water or ordered her some t

w about her ulcer.

rowing his shot back, laughing with her

too much. The laughter sounded shril

a said, putting th

Atticus

. She grabbed her clu

nded. "It's barely ten o'cl

"And I need to see if... I ne

abbing her arm. His grip was a little too tight.

at his hand on her

ticus," she

ng his hands up in mock surrender.

orrow," she said,

ng Chloe's frantic wave. She marched tow

going hom

going to scream at him until he broke, until

phone-hanging-up Jorden-terrified h

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Ex-Wife, Please Have Some Self-Respect
Ex-Wife, Please Have Some Self-Respect
“I was driving through a rainstorm in upstate New York, pushing my old Volvo to the limit just to pick up a Dior gown for my wife, Catarina. She needed it for a gala tonight, where she planned to spend the evening standing next to the man she actually loved, Atticus Deleon. The truck hit me head-on, crossing the center line and sending my car rolling down an embankment in a shriek of twisted metal and shattered glass. As the steering column crushed my chest, my brain didn't see a white light; it was pried open by a digital tsunami, flooding my mind with the "Quantum Archive"-billions of data points on surgery, high-frequency trading, and combat. I woke up in the ICU with three broken ribs and a concussion, but the only thing waiting for me was a screaming voicemail from my wife's assistant. "Jorden, where the hell are you? Catarina has been waiting for thirty minutes! You are so incompetent it's actually impressive." There was no "Are you okay?" or "Are you alive?"-only fury over a ruined dress and a missing tie. While I was being resuscitated, my wife was on Instagram, singing "Endless Love" with Atticus and laughing at my "tantrum." She even called the family lawyer to freeze my credit cards, wanting to make sure I couldn't even buy a coffee without her permission. For three years, I had been the "useful husband," the doormat who apologized whenever she stepped on my toes. But the accident had overwritten my desperation with cold, hard logic, and I realized I had almost died for a woman who viewed me as a liability with a negative return on investment. When Catarina finally stormed into my hospital room to demand an apology for ruining her night, I didn't look at her with the usual puppy-dog eyes. I looked at her with ice in my veins and handed her a manila envelope I had drafted myself. "Sign the divorce papers, Ms. Evans. I'm done being your canary."”