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His Depression Got Me Dumped Novel Cover

His Depression Got Me Dumped

When his wife demands a divorce to prioritize her childhood friend Asher’s mental health, the protagonist signs the papers without hesitation. Planning to move abroad, he faces his wife’s cold assumption that his departure is merely a manipulative ploy for attention. She instructs him to stay hidden until Asher recovers, but he has finally reached his limit. Handing back his wedding ring while remembering his own scars, he chooses to end their connection forever.
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Chapter 3

I slipped off my wedding ring and looked at the jagged scar on my wrist.

Then I watched Mara leave and set the ring on the coffee table.

"No need," I said. "Let's just let each other go. Stop holding on."

My voice stayed steady.

Only my eyes burned.

This goodbye was a one-man show.

Mara never heard it.

And even if she had, I doubted she'd care.

Everyone who knew us knew one thing—

I loved her.

More than anything.

I would've given my life for her.

My phone buzzed.

[Are you really coming to Francia?]

I looked down at my crooked fingers before replying.

Bitterness settled in my chest.

I typed: [I've made up my mind. Once I finish things here, I'm leaving for Francia.]

On my way to file the divorce papers, I passed a giant digital billboard.

A wedding ad.

Asher stood in a tailored suit.

Mara stood beside him in a white gown, smiling up at him.

Six years ago, Mara and I got married at the County Clerk's Office.

She said she didn't want people claiming her success came from her husband's family. When she'd made a name for herself as a scientist, she'd announce our marriage.

I respected that.

So did my family.

Later, when my family's business collapsed and we lost everything, I handed her divorce papers.

Mara tore them up and wrapped her arms around me.

Back then, I thought we'd never break apart.

No matter what happened.

Then Asher showed up.

I tried everything to win her back.

Nothing worked.

After enough disappointment, I remembered something my father used to say.

"Wilde. I named you Wilde because I want you to be free. Untamed. Unbound."

The memory blended into the present.

I looked up at the billboard and watched their sweet little moment.

Relief washed over me.

When I got home to pack and leave, I ran into Mara and Asher.

Mara frowned the second she saw me. "Why are you still here?"

I didn't answer.

As we passed each other, Asher stuck out his foot. I tripped and hit the floor.

Mara just watched, expression cold.

I didn't want to stay another second. I grabbed my luggage and headed for the door.

Then Mara called after me.

"What's that painting you're holding?"

I froze.

She took it from my hands.

The painting showed a family of three from behind, standing in the glow of a sunset. Their shadows stretched across the ground.

After a few seconds, she said, "Give it to Asher for the competition."

"No."

She clearly hadn't expected that.

Surprise flashed across her face, then irritation.

"What do you need it for? Asher's competing for a painter role. This contest is important to him."

I shook my head.

My dad painted that before he died.

The three figures were our family.

It meant everything to me.

No matter how hard things got, I'd never even considered selling it.

"Wilde, can you be reasonable?"

I gritted my teeth.

"Why should I? Your relationship with Asher is all over the internet. Why am I the one who has to be mature? If you insist on taking that painting, I'll tell everyone how fake your so-called love story is. Asher's just the other guy in someone else's marriage."

The second the words left my mouth—

Mara let out an angry laugh.

"Are you threatening me?"

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