Remarried Three Times, I'm Done With My Trashy Husband

When they remarried for the fourth time, Blaire Bennett told Evan Everett it was their last chance. If he betrayed her again, she would leave him for good. Evan had sworn absolute loyalty, hand over heart—then turned around and wrapped another woman in his arms. Caught red-handed, he delivered his excuse with practiced ease. "I can't control the split personality. You can't punish me for something the other me did." It was a pathetic lie, and Blaire had believed it three times. Only moments ago, she had heard him admit with her own ears that the so-called split personality was nothing but an act—a convenient cover for cheating. That was when the truth finally tore through her. The pain had carved into Blaire like a blade. She filed for divorce without hesitation. This time, she would not look back. ...... Evan had claimed he lived with two personalities. The primary one was refined and restrained, devoted to Blaire alone. The other was reckless and feral, rotten in body and soul. Blaire had married him three times for the first man—and divorced him three times because of the second. Before their fourth attempt, she had made it clear—this was the end of the line. Evan had checked himself into a private clinic and undergone half a month of electroconvulsive therapy, swearing he had eradicated the other personality for good. After he was discharged, he and Blaire had gone to courthouse and certified their fourth marriage. But only two weeks into the marriage, Blaire ran straight into that so-called second personality again. On the death track, a few heavy motorcycles were scattered across the asphalt. Evan leaned against one, his left arm loosely wrapped around a woman's slim waist, head tipped slightly as she lit his cigarette. Through the smoke, his wind-tossed hair and the three silver studs along his ear gleamed with a wild arrogance—so familiar that Blaire felt herself plunge back into a nightmare she had barely survived. Evan lifted his gaze and smiled at the woman. "Give me a kiss. For tonight's grand prize, I'd trade my life to win it back for you." Evan's handsome face usually opened every door for him, but the woman remained cool, almost bored, as though even sparing him a glance was too generous. "Mr. Everett, you must be joking. Everyone knows you've already crashed and burned with your wife four times. You have a perfectly intact family. Don't drag me into your games. No matter how badly I want my mother's keepsake back, I won't stoop to becoming a married man's mistress." Brushed off, Evan did not take offense. Instead, he curved his lips in an indulgent smile. "Alright. I know you're jealous. But you know how I feel about you. If you want, I can divorce her for the fourth time. Don't make this harder than it needs to be, okay?" Cora Hayes let out a cold laugh. "Pretty words are easy. I heard Ms. Bennett said this was your last chance. Aren't you afraid that if you divorce her to please me, she won't marry you again?" With the cigarette between his teeth, Evan tapped his temple dismissively and smiled. "Did you forget? I have a split personality. Whatever the other me does has nothing to do with the real me." His shameless words drew whistles and laughter. "Cora, you just don't get Evan's kind of love. If Blaire were really that resolute, would she have remarried him three times? With a guy like Evan, what woman could walk away?" "Exactly. Evan's the devoted type. Men at our level can keep as many women as we want. Since when do we have to tiptoe around the wife at home?" Evan hurled his helmet at him, his expression turning glacial. "Watch your mouth. You want to keep your tongue or not?" The man immediately lowered his head and fell silent. Sensing the shift in mood, someone hurried to smooth things over. "Still, I'm curious. How do you always win your wife back?" Evan exhaled slowly. Through the haze, his face blurred. Even his voice sounded distant, detached—like it came from behind a veil. "It's easy. Make a show of it. Block and delete every female contact in front of her. Transfer all the women out of headquarters. Avoid any event where women might show up. Let her believe she's the only one." Not far away, Blaire stared at Evan's blurred profile, her eyes burning red. Six years together. Four marriages. Had she truly never seen him for who he was? The split personality had been nothing but a shield for infidelity. Divorce had become a bargaining chip he could toss out whenever it pleased a new lover. And she had played the fool—tasting sweetness one moment, drowning the next. She suddenly remembered the day of their fourth remarriage, how his voice had trembled as he swore he would never betray her again. So that promise had lasted exactly two weeks. Blaire smiled as she wiped away her tears—wiping him out of her blurred vision as well. As she turned to leave, someone bumped into her. The man began with a lazy apology, but when he saw her face, his voice shot up in panic. "Blaire? What are you doing here?" The roaring track fell into sudden silence. Blaire lifted her eyes and met Evan's stunned gaze.