After The Divorce, He Regretted Everything
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Yvonne Carter once believed love meant endurance, patience and sacrifice. She gave up her career, her dreams, and her pride to become Adrian Blake's wife.
For three years, she waited in a cold marriage where love never came.
When Adrian asks for a divorce to protect the woman he truly loves, Yvonne signs the papers without a tear and walks away quietly.
What he does not know is that the woman he divorced was never weak.
After the divorce, Yvonne returns to the world she once abandoned. She rebuilds her life, regains her identity, and rises higher than anyone expected. The woman who once waited at home becomes someone Adrian can no longer reach.
Only then does regret come.
As Adrian realizes what he lost, he begins a desperate pursuit to win back the wife he never valued. But Yvonne is no longer willing to trade her future for a love that came too late.
When the past refuses to let go and the future demands a choice, Yvonne must decide
Should she walk away forever?
Or give the man who broke her heart one final chance.
After The Divorce, He Regretted Everything Chapter 1
"We need to talk."
Adrian's voice was calm as he placed a brown envelope on the table.
I stood still for a second, the warm bowl of soup in my hands slowly losing heat.
"What is that?" I asked.
He loosened his tie and leaned back slightly on the sofa, his expression distant, as if this conversation meant nothing to him.
"Divorce papers."
The words came out simply.
Too simply.
For a moment, I didn't react. The room felt quiet, almost unreal, as if everything had slowed down around me.
Then I walked forward and set the bowl on the table before my hands could start shaking.
"Why?" I asked, lifting my eyes to meet his.
"This marriage has no meaning anymore."
I let out a soft breath that almost sounded like a laugh.
"Did it ever have meaning to you?"
Adrian frowned slightly, as if the question itself annoyed him.
"Don't make this difficult."
His tone was still calm, but it carried a trace of impatience.
I held his gaze for a moment longer, then asked the question I already knew the answer to.
"Is it because of her?"
There was a pause.
Not long. Just enough.
But it told me everything.
Sophia.
His first love. The woman he never forgot. The one everyone in the city knew about, even if no one said it out loud.
"She's sick," Adrian said. "She needs rest. I can't let her be disturbed by rumors."
I stared at him, the meaning behind his words settling slowly but heavily.
"So you're divorcing me... to protect her."
"This is the best solution." He pushed the envelope closer to me. "You'll get compensation. A house and money. It's enough for you to live well."
I looked down at the documents.
Everything was prepared. Clean. Organized.
Final.
He had already planned this.
Not recently. Not suddenly.
For a long time.
"When do you want it done?" I asked.
"Tomorrow."
The answer came without hesitation.
"So soon," I said quietly, more to myself than to him.
Then I nodded.
"Alright."
Adrian looked at me, something flickering in his eyes.
"You agree?"
"Yes."
There was no point arguing. No point asking for something that was never there.
"I'll sign," I said calmly. "But I have one condition."
His gaze sharpened slightly.
"What condition?"
"After the divorce, we have nothing to do with each other," I said. "If we meet again, we act like strangers."
He studied me for a moment, as if trying to understand something, then gave a short nod.
"Fine."
I picked up the pen.
For a brief second, my hand paused above the paper.
Not because I was hesitating.
But because I realized how simple it was.
Three years of marriage.
Ending in a single signature.
I lowered the pen and signed my name.
The ink dried quickly.
Just like that, it was over.
I pushed the papers back toward him.
"Done."
Adrian stood and picked them up, flipping through briefly as if to confirm.
"My assistant will contact you tomorrow," he said.
He turned and walked toward the door, his steps steady and unhurried.
Before leaving, he paused slightly.
"You can stay here tonight."
Then he left.
The door closed behind him with a quiet click.
The sound echoed more than it should have.
I stood there for a moment before slowly sitting down.
The soup was still on the table.
Untouched.
Cold.
I stared at it without really seeing it, then let out a small laugh that didn't sound like mine.
So this was how it ended.
No argument.
No tears.
Just a decision that had already been made without me.
That night, I packed my things.
I didn't take much.
Just the essentials.
Clothes. Documents. A few personal items.
At the bottom of the drawer, I found a small box I hadn't opened in years.
I held it for a moment before opening it.
Inside was my medical license.
I looked at it quietly, running my fingers over the edges.
Before this marriage, I had a career.
A future.
Something that belonged to me.
Then I closed the box and placed it into my bag.
⸻
The next day, the divorce was finalized.
Everything went smoothly.
Too smoothly.
By the time the paperwork was complete, there was nothing left connecting us.
By the afternoon, I was already gone.
No goodbye.
No last conversation.
Just an ending.
⸻
Outside the civil office, the sunlight felt brighter than usual.
I stood there for a moment, holding the divorce certificate in my hand.
It felt light.
Lighter than I expected.
I took a slow breath.
Then I smiled.
It wasn't forced.
It wasn't bitter.
It was quiet. Calm.
Behind me, a black car pulled to a stop.
The door opened.
Adrian stepped out.
He looked up and saw me.
Saw the way I was standing.
Saw the expression on my face.
For the first time, something in his gaze changed.
It was small.
But it was there.
I didn't stop.
I turned and walked away, blending into the crowd without looking back.
Adrian remained where he stood, his eyes following me until I disappeared from view.
A strange feeling settled in his chest.
Unfamiliar.
Uncomfortable.
He frowned slightly, as if trying to understand it.
But he couldn't.
Not yet.
Because he didn't realize that the woman who just walked away had already let go of everything.
And one day, when he finally understood what he had lost,
it would already be too late.
Continue Reading
After The Divorce, He Regretted Everything of Contents
Chapter 1 Ch. 1Chapter 2 Ch. 2Chapter 3 Ch. 3Chapter 4 Ch. 4Chapter 5 Ch. 5Chapter 6 Ch. 6
Chapter 7 Ch. 7
Chapter 8 Ch. 8
Chapter 9 Ch. 9
Chapter 10 Ch. 10
Chapter 11 Ch. 11
All Chapters all
New Release Novels
7.7
My husband, Bennett, and I were New York's golden couple. But our perfect marriage was a lie, childless because of a rare genetic condition he claimed would kill any woman who carried his baby. When his dying father demanded an heir, Bennett proposed a solution: a surrogate.
The woman he chose, Aria, was a younger, more vibrant version of me. Suddenly, Bennett was always busy, supporting her through "difficult IVF cycles." He missed my birthday. He forgot our anniversary.
I tried to believe him, until I overheard him at a party. He confessed to his friends that his love for me was a "deep connection," but with Aria, it was "fire" and "exhilarating."
He was planning a secret wedding with her in Lake Como, at the same villa he'd promised me for our anniversary.
He was giving her a wedding, a family, a life—all the things he denied me, using a lie about a deadly genetic condition as his excuse. The betrayal was so complete it felt like a physical shock.
When he came home that night, lying about a business trip, I smiled and played the part of the loving wife.
He didn't know I'd heard everything.
He didn't know that while he was planning his new life, I was already planning my escape.
And he certainly didn't know I had just made a call to a service that specialized in one thing: making people disappear.
9.5
My boyfriend, Jefferson, convinced me to give up my Yale scholarship for him. He was my secret, my escape from the shame of my mother's past, and I threw away my future for our love.
Then, at a gala, he publicly announced his engagement to Aubrey Carroll-the girl who made my high school years a living hell.
He trapped me in his mansion, forcing me to become her personal servant. She tortured me daily, culminating in her brutally killing our dog, Charlie, with a garden trowel.
When her friends arrived, they joined in, stripping me half-naked and live-streaming my panic attack for the world to see.
The man who once promised to protect me watched as they destroyed me.
But as I lay bleeding out on the floor, it wasn't an ambulance that arrived. It was the private security of Alexzander Stevens-my estranged, billionaire grandfather.
He revealed I was his sole heiress, and now, we were going to make them pay for every last tear.
7.9
I woke up in a sterile hospital room, my head split open from a horrific car crash.
But the pain in my skull was nothing compared to the memory burned into my retinas just before the impact: my billionaire husband, Dawson, walking into a luxury hotel with a woman who looked exactly like his dead first love.
When Dawson finally arrived at the ward, there was no panic or relief in his eyes. He just coldly looked at my bloody bandages.
"Your reckless driving just forced me to postpone the quarterly board meeting."
Even our seven-year-old son, who I almost died giving birth to, didn't spare me a single glance. He kicked my hospital bed in annoyance.
"The Wi-Fi here is garbage. You're a bad mom! Dad said Aunt Angelita should be the one living with us!"
My blood turned to ice. For five years, I had bent over backward, wearing the hideous pale dresses he picked, starving myself to maintain a fragile figure, all to be a perfect, obedient substitute for a ghost.
And this was what I got. An unfaithful husband who would rather bury me in debt than grant me a divorce, and a son who wished I was dead.
The weak, subservient Charlene died on that wet asphalt.
When the doctor pointed to Dawson and asked for his name, I looked at my husband with a hollow, defensive stare.
"Who are you?" I whispered.
Using retrograde amnesia as my shield, I was going to tear their perfect world apart.
7.7
BAD REPUTATION
7.7
It was her hair that fascinated him. The reddish-brown mass was parted high to one side, windswept almost. And then there was her make-up, neutral save for the liner around her eyes and the bold lip colour... was that purple?
His gaze narrowed over it and she must have sensed his attention, her eyes flickering in his direction. "You know, it's rude to stare."
Her voice was husky, a crisp edge that rasped along his spine and sealed her appeal. Derek was hooked. Her eyes were back on the doors, her lack of interest obvious.
He should've taken it as a sign, but since when had he backed off from anything he fancied?
9.1
Waking up with a cold, scaly hand wrapped around my throat wasn't the worst part.
The worst part was realizing I'd transmigrated into the body of Terra Mason—the most despised woman in the entire Enclave. She drugged high-level beast-men and forced them into life-binding bio-contracts. She locked an aquatic warrior in a dry basement until his organs failed. She treated the most lethal males in the city like broken toys.
Zev, the Level 6 serpent who's currently choking me, would rather blow up his own heart than spend another day as my slave. His affection metric? Negative ninety. His trust? Zero.
Then my system activates: the Kore AI. It gives me exactly 500 credits, a medical nano-gel, and a recipe for neutralizing the radioactive poison in mutant meat. Real food. In this world, that's worth more than gold.
I save Rhys, the dying aquatic male everyone left for dead. I season a slab of purple mutant steak until Sam, a battle-scarred grizzly shifter, groans at the taste—and his trust points finally tick above zero. When my backstabbing ex-best friend tries to steal my males and destroy me, I don't scream or throw a tantrum like the old Terra. I dismantle her with the truth.
But earning their trust means more than grilling meat. A scorpion swarm ambushes us at midnight. Sam throws himself between me and a stinger the size of my arm. As he stands over the corpse, fur receding from his claws, he stares at me and whispers, "You were testing me."
Yes. I was. Because in this world, the weak don't survive. And I refuse to be weak again.
Four beast-men. Four contracts. One system. And a whole lot of steak. Let this dystopian wasteland know—I'm not the monster they remember. I'm worse. I'm the one who's going to feed them until they'd kill for me.
8.6
"What do you think people would say if they found out you don't have a dick?" Christian asked, his voice low and dripping with seduction. His hand pressed firmly against my crotch, fingers exploring the flat, unfamiliar emptiness there. A devilish smirk curved his lips. "Or if they discovered these voluptuous breasts you've been hiding so well?"
A strangled moan slipped from my throat as his hand slid under my shirt, his fingers brushing over my hardened nipples, teasing them with slow, deliberate strokes.
"Which do you think they'd call you?" he murmured, eyes gleaming. "A boy with tits... or a dickless little fraud?"
I stared into his hungry blue eyes, words failing me.
"The term you're looking for is 'girl,'" came Xavier's smooth voice from the bathroom doorway. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click, his gaze raking over me with open interest. "So tell me, little girl... what the hell is someone like you doing in an all-boys dorm?"
Christian's smirk widened. "She wants to be devoured by boys like us." His fingers gave my nipple one last firm pinch before he leaned in closer, breath hot against my ear. "And I'll be more than happy to give her a taste."
