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Too Late For Regret, My Cheating Ex Novel Cover

Too Late For Regret, My Cheating Ex

Ten years of marriage end with a divorce agreement and a confession: her husband is leaving her for her own sister, Megan. When she turns to her mother, she learns the affair was known for months—and she's ordered to accept a hollow marriage to protect the family's finances. Realizing she was never loved, she refuses to beg. Tearing up the prenup, she leverages his IPO to claim two properties and half a million in cash, then dusts off her hidden certifications and calls a top headhunter.
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Chapter 2

Harper Clay POV:

I strode out of the bedroom and locked myself in the study. Once the adrenaline faded, only an endless emptiness remained.

I slid down the door panel, my legs going weak. I looked up at the wedding photo on the wall. In the picture, Sterling was looking at me as if I were his entire universe. But now, that gaze felt like a thousand steel needles piercing my eyes. My ten years of youth had been crushed into bloody shards of glass.

With violently trembling hands, I pulled out my phone and dialed the number of the person who should unconditionally protect me. The phone rang for a long time. The background noise was filled with the clatter of country club ladies playing Mahjong and their shrill laughter.

"I'm telling you, my Megan is finally back. Sterling just bought her a diamond tennis bracelet yesterday. Oh, Harper? She's perfectly happy being a housewife..." My mother, Carol, was loudly bragging to her wealthy Mahjong friends.

"Mom!" I choked out, a desperate sob tearing through my throat. "Sterling is cheating on me. With Megan. I caught them right in my own bed!"

The laughter on the other end abruptly stopped. In the chilling dead silence, there was only the sound of my mother slowly shuffling the tiles.

"Mom?"

"I already knew." Carol's voice dripped with extreme impatience. "Don't make a scene like a hysterical, bitter woman. What's the big deal?"

The blood in my entire body completely froze. "You... you already knew?"

"Your sister brought him home back when she was in college. If Megan hadn't gone to pursue her own career, how could a superstar like Sterling ever look your way?" she said casually. "Your brother's tech company and your father's factory are entirely sustained by Sterling's investments. You haven't worked a single day in ten years; he's the one providing for you. Don't you dare ruin our family's cash tree over your ridiculous jealousy. Give him back to your sister, and just pretend nothing happened between you two for these ten years."

I drew in a breath of biting cold air. So they all knew, and I was the only one in the dark... Then what did my ten years of sacrifice amount to?

I quietly hung up the phone. All the weakness and grief were completely drained out of me at this moment, leaving behind only a heart tempered into steel, as cold and hard as iron.

I stood up, opened the safe, and took out the heavy parchment marriage certificate.

I walked downstairs. The living room was as cold as a tomb. Sterling was standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. He had washed off the cake that covered him and changed into a bespoke suit.

Smack! I viciously slammed the marriage certificate onto the glass coffee table. "I can divorce you, Sterling. But you must compensate me for every single penny of loss I am owed. I want half of your assets."

Sterling froze for a moment, then burst into a dark, mocking sneer. "Half? Harper, is your brain flooded with water? You're just a housewife. You eat my food, you live in my penthouse. What exactly have you contributed to this family?"

"What have I contributed?" My voice was terrifyingly quiet, slicing open his arrogance as precisely as a scalpel. "Sterling, you have extremely severe, even crippling OCD and pre-game anxiety! You absolutely refuse to let the team's medical staff touch you!"

I closed in on him, my eyes nailed dead onto his face. "For these ten years, I was your sports nutritionist, your advanced physical therapist, your deep sanitation manager, and your fucking psychological crisis counselor! When you were throwing up uncontrollably in the locker room from panic attacks, who was kneeling on the floor like a dog cleaning you up, pulling your shattered sanity back? It was me who allowed you to be a god on the ice for these ten years! The private medical fees I saved you amount to far more than just a few million!"

The mockery on Sterling's face deepened. "So what? You're my wife, that was your job. Did I not give you the halo of the 'Captain's Wife'?" He leaned down, his eyes full of icy ridicule. "But let me remind you of reality. We signed an ironclad prenup. You roll out of here with exactly what you brought through this door: absolutely nothing. Now, pack your trash and get the hell out, or I'll have security throw you out."

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