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After My Husband Vowed to House His Mistress, I Divorced Him Novel Cover

After My Husband Vowed to House His Mistress, I Divorced Him

At our class reunion, my husband lost a game of truth or dare and was dared to call the person he regretted most in his life. I listened as a woman's voice came through the phone. She asked, "If I get divorced now, will you give me a place to call home?" Marcus answered confidently, "Yes." An awkward silence filled the room. Everyone expected a dramatic response from me, but instead, I calmly took off my wedding ring and walked away. He returned home late again that night. I handed him the divorce papers I had prepared beforehand, "Marcus, let's end this marriage." Upon hearing this, Marcus tugged impatiently at his tie, "Frances, this is absurd. Over such a trivial thing, you’re making a scene and daring to bring up divorce? You've really grown bold!" He had just pledged himself to another woman, in front of everyone, yet accused me of overreacting. No surprise there. My endless tolerance over the years had led him to see me as a pushover—someone he could manipulate at will, not even worthy of expressing anger.
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Chapter 1

At our class reunion, my husband lost a game of truth or dare and was dared to call the person he regretted most in his life.

I listened as a woman's voice came through the phone.

She asked, "If I get divorced now, will you give me a place to call home?"

Marcus answered confidently, "Yes."

An awkward silence filled the room.

Everyone expected a dramatic response from me, but instead, I calmly took off my wedding ring and walked away.

He returned home late again that night.

I handed him the divorce papers I had prepared beforehand, "Marcus, let's end this marriage."

Upon hearing this, Marcus tugged impatiently at his tie, "Frances, this is absurd. Over such a trivial thing, you’re making a scene and daring to bring up divorce? You've really grown bold!"

He had just pledged himself to another woman, in front of everyone, yet accused me of overreacting.

No surprise there. My endless tolerance over the years had led him to see me as a pushover—someone he could manipulate at will, not even worthy of expressing anger.

I chuckled at myself, "I'm willingly stepping aside for her; shouldn’t that make you happy?"

Marcus's brow furrowed; I noticed the displeasure in his eyes.

"Stop being irrational, will you? It was just a game. Livia is a friend; do you expect me to reject her outright and embarrass her? Frances, you shouldn’t be so selfish."

I nodded, "Yes, you’re right, which is why we should separate."

This was my second time mentioning divorce, and Marcus, usually composed, showed a flicker of panic. But he quickly regained his calm.

"Frances, don’t use divorce to threaten me."

"Apologize to Livia properly, and I might reconsider. Otherwise, I don’t mind changing the role of Mrs. Kelley."

It was utterly laughable.

Three years of marriage, and Marcus's heart had always belonged to Livia.

I was foolish not to see it clearly until today.

I said nothing more, simply tearing up the only photo we had together.

It was taken at our wedding, only after I had begged Marcus persistently; he reluctantly agreed.

In the photo, he showed no hint of joy, starkly contrasting my own expression.

I had cherished this photo once, but now, under Marcus's shocked gaze, I slowly tore it to pieces.

"Marcus, we're getting divorced."

After a brief moment of disbelief, Marcus spoke coldly, "Frances, don’t regret this!"

He stormed out, leaving behind a floor covered in torn fragments.

This was how he always treated me.

Any time I did something that displeased him, he'd punish me until I begged for forgiveness, then he’d generously pardon me.

He forgot that today was our third wedding anniversary.

I had originally prepared a big surprise for him.

But I didn't expect that he would call Livia at the party, and when she asked that question, he agreed without hesitation.

My last illusion about him was completely shattered.

Three years of marriage, and I finally realized I couldn’t win his heart.

So I decided to let him go and free myself.

---

The next morning, I was about to book a ride on my phone when I saw Livia's post on Facebook.

"No matter when, if I look back, you'll always be waiting there for me."

The accompanying photo showed fingers intertwined, with Marcus wearing the watch I had custom-made for him on his birthday. It had our initials engraved on it.

When Marcus put on the watch, he said he was willing to leave the past behind and try with me.

Hearing those words made me ecstatic, foolishly believing that three years of devotion hadn’t been in vain, and he finally noticed me.

That night was also when we consummated our marriage for the first time.

My hand instinctively went to my belly.

Yes, I was pregnant.

Last night, I intended to share the good news, but now, it was unnecessary.

I blocked Livia.

I went alone to the hospital to schedule an abortion. As the cold instruments entered my body, I cried with pain.

How liberating!

From now on, the last tie to Marcus was completely severed.

During my hospital stay, Marcus never called.

Due to the damage to my body, the doctor said it might be difficult for me to have children in the future.

Saying I wasn't saddened would be a lie, but more than anything, I felt relief.

At least my child wouldn't be like me, pathetically yearning for Marcus's occasional scraps of affection.

"My dear, you finally woke up. That jerk Marcus doesn't deserve you."

"Don't worry, once you're divorced, I'll hire a team of male models just for you. Why stick with one bad man when you can have a whole entourage?"

My only close friend, Isabelle, wholeheartedly supported my decision to divorce.

Seeing her exaggerated expression, I couldn't help but laugh.

She looked at me with utmost seriousness and said, "Frannie, this time, make sure you don't go back to him."

I nodded, "I won't."

After the divorce, I'll leave this city behind once and for all.

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