His Cruel Game, Her Final Word

[If you don't call me back this instant, you'll never see me again.]

A process server delivered the divorce papers to his high-rise office while he was in the middle of a board meeting.

I blocked his number, leased a loft apartment downtown, and began assembling my architectural portfolio. After we married, Wesley had convinced me to abandon a promising career path right after Yale to be a full-time housewife, always at his beck and call, a supporting character in his endless psychodramas.

He’d sworn he loved me so deeply that he had to keep testing that love, reaffirming it with each cruel scenario. He insisted the cold, selfish men he played weren't the real him—it was just an act.

Looking back, I realized the cold, selfish, cruel man he portrayed was never a role. That was the real him.

Wesley was incandescent with rage after being served. He somehow got my new address from the building manager and cornered me in the lobby.

"Are you insane? You actually had me served with divorce papers at my company?" he snarled, his handsome face contorted with fury.

I strode toward the entrance. “You're the one who ended it. I'm just making it official.”

“Make it official? Nothing is official until I say it is! I decide when the game ends!”

“You said the words, Wesley. It’s time you learned to live with them.” I added calmly, “I wish you all the success you were looking for,” then turned and walked into the building, leaving him fuming on the sidewalk.

With my qualifications, I quickly landed a job as a project assistant at a prestigious architectural firm. The pay was decent—enough to cover my rent and living expenses.

The interview went smoothly, and my start date was the following Monday.

But that night, I discovered all our joint credit cards had been frozen.

Over the phone, his voice was pure venom. “So you’re really determined to see this little rebellion through?”

“This isn’t a rebellion,” I said, struggling to keep my voice steady.

He let out a short, cruel laugh. “I’m just helping you become ‘independent,’ Sloane. Isn’t that what you wanted? To prove you could make it on your own?”

“Unfreeze the cards, Wesley!” I shouted.

“Don’t you dare challenge me,” he shot back.

True to his word, Wesley’s retaliation was swift and brutal.