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

The feeling of hovering at death's edge was more terrifying than death itself.

The first thing Blaire did after regaining consciousness was call the police.

But before she could finish stating her case, Evan stormed into the room and snatched the phone from her hand.

He ended the call, irritation clear on his face. "Have you lost your mind?"

Her throat was raw from dehydration and days without food, her voice hoarse but steady. "I'm calling the cops, Evan."

She looked at him without flinching. "That was attempted murder."

Blaire's face was so ashen it looked translucent.

For a split second, Evan felt that same unsettling fear that he might lose her entirely. He frowned, suppressing the strange unease, and his tone softened almost involuntarily.

"Honey, we're still married. This is just a domestic dispute."

"Then I'll wait until we're divorced." She spoke each word clearly. "Time doesn't erase wrongdoing."

His heartbeat stuttered. Something in her voice suggested more than she was saying.

But what mistake had he made?

Everything a patient with dissociative identity disorder did could be excused as illness.

He didn't make mistakes. He got sick.

And Blaire would never know the difference.

He steadied himself. "Stop making this worse. If you hadn't hurt Cora first, none of this would've happened. If you actually call the police, you'll be the one who suffers. No one's going to risk crossing me over something this trivial."

Blaire let out a hollow laugh. "I almost died, and you think that's trivial?"

"I was watching. You weren't going to die." He added casually, "If you're still mad, next time we remarry, I'll let you give me a shot too. Fair enough? This was your fault. Maybe now you've felt some pain, you'll learn not to play with someone's life. And she's my lifesaver. Without her, I wouldn't even be here talking to you."

Lifesaver. And lover.

Evan cheated and still expected Blaire to clean up the narrative for him.

Love divided into two identical portions was nothing but repulsive.

Blaire closed her eyes. She no longer had the energy to argue.

Evan assumed she was simply angry and chose to wait for her to cool down.

Whether for convenience or sheer indifference, he arranged her hospital room next to Cora's.

Sometimes, when Blaire drifted in and out of thought, she heard laughter from the neighboring room.

Endless luxury goods passed her doorway on their way to Cora's room, all for the sake of a smile.

Even the nurses knew Evan was keeping two women at his side.

Blaire reacted to none of it. She ate when it was time to eat, slept when it was time to sleep—until one night she was jolted awake by a hand clamped over her mouth and nose.

Her eyes snapped open to see Cora, hair loose and wild.

"Ms. Bennett," Cora murmured, "does it take someone as shameless as you to keep crawling back after every stunt and still stay by Evan's side?"

The suffocation triggered Blaire's reflex. She shoved Cora away and clutched her chest, gasping for air.

Cora looked half-crazed, worn thin by gossip and by Blaire's indifference. "What's wrong with you? Do you really think he's staying at the hospital for you? No. I told him I wanted to have sex with him next to you. He refused to take me home, so this was as close as I could get. Do you even realize he doesn't love you anymore? He only loves me!"

"Love you?" Blaire's lips curved coldly. "You don't even qualify as the other woman. What makes you think he loves you?"

"Shut up!" Cora glared at her. "He listens to me now. I'll prove it."

Blaire gave a nonchalant nod. After Cora stormed out, Evan's call came through.

He didn't even wait for her to speak. "What did you do to Cora this time?"

"Anything else? If not, I'm hanging up."

"Wait." He sighed, exhaustion heavy in his voice. "She's crying hysterically. She wants you to personally organize our wedding. You know she's not stable. She can't keep crying like this. Don't worry. It's just a ceremony. You're the only one I consider my wife."

"Fine. But I have a condition." Her voice was calm. "Our divorce decree first. Then you can start planning your wedding."

"You really want to divorce me that badly?" he asked through clenched teeth.

Blaire said, "No. The choice is yours."

She did not go back to sleep. As expected, at dawn, Evan's secretary delivered the finalized divorce decree.

"Mr. Everett said you upset Ms. Hayes, so he has to make it up to her. That's why he didn't come in person today," the secretary explained. "He also said he doesn't want the divorce either, but this is the only way to keep everyone satisfied. He hopes you understand."

Blaire said nothing. As she ran her fingers over the familiar document, she felt lighter than she had in years.

Without notifying anyone, she completed her discharge paperwork and took a cab to the airport.

Evan called again and again.

She never answered. When she stepped out of the cab, she threw the phone into a trash bin.

She turned once more to look at the city that had held all her love and hatred. A small, relieved smile touched her lips.

Blaire thought to herself that whatever had existed between them ended here, and from now on she would never look back.