He Saved the Side Chick

In this intense modern romance, a devastating car accident reveals the true priorities of Steven, who chooses to save his mentee, Tammy, while his wife remains trapped with a ruptured liver. After surviving the ordeal and witnessing his disproportionate concern for Tammy's minor scratch, the protagonist presents Steven with divorce papers. However, her husband refuses to let her go, vowing that only death will end their marriage. Now, she is prepared to take him up on that dark promise.

Chapters

Chapter 3

All these years, I ran myself into the ground trying to prove I was the best thing that ever happened to Steven. Late nights, back-to-back clients, nonstop grind. I thought I'd finally shown I was better than anyone he'd ever known.

But he was never on my side. Not from the start.

I leaned back, let out a long breath, tears slipping down.

This time... I'm living for me.

I had my lawyer draw up the divorce papers and wrote my own resignation. Both landed on Steven's desk through legal hands.

Then I checked out of the hospital, blocked him, and booked a flight to the coast.

I'd always been obsessed with the ocean. Back in college, I dreamed of beach towns, sunset walks, a dog, someone who actually gave a damn.

But Steven couldn't stand the sea. Later found out Tammy almost drowned as a kid. She was scared of water—so he bailed on Seavora for Harvon City.

***

A week after leaving Harvon City, I finally powered my phone back on.

Boom—hundreds of missed calls and texts.

Figures. Steven used to brag the company didn't need me. Guess reality's kicking in.

The screen lit up: 'Hubby.'

I paused, then answered. "Yeah?"

"Bree, what the hell is wrong with you? You ghost us now? Mr. Quandt's been blowing up my phone! You owe him that design—even if you quit. Ever heard of professionalism?"

Mr. Quandt wasn't just any client—he was one of the hardest to land.

He's the one who dragged me out for drinks on my wedding night. If I hadn't gone, we'd have lost the deal.

The company was barely crawling back then. I couldn't risk it.

So yeah, I left Steven alone on our wedding night.

Next day, I bought him that watch he always talked about—four grand.

The dress I wore? Less than fifty bucks. I'd had it for three years.

I clenched the phone as pain stabbed through my side.

"I'm sick. I resigned so I wouldn't hold the company back. Didn't you say Tammy was the real talent? That I was just dead weight? Well, congrats—you've got your shot now. Shouldn't you be thrilled?"

Silence. Then Steven snapped, "The doctor said it's not fatal. Get your ass back to work."

Not fatal?

I doubled over, coughing hard. Red smeared my palm.

"If that's all, lose my number. Sign the divorce papers. I want every cent I'm owed. From now on, talk to my lawyer."

As soon as I hung up, a new chat notification popped up.

Tammy.

Over a dozen photos—her all over Steven.

My temples pounded. I could barely breathe.

I stared at the keyboard for a while before backing out of Tammy's chat.

Not yet. It wasn't time.

Two weeks later, an unknown number lit up my screen.

The area code made me freeze. I hesitated, then answered.