Divorcing The Star: My Spectacular Comeback

JENSEN POV:

I smoothed the black velvet of my daughter's dress, my fingers trembling slightly.

"Quietly, Zoe," I whispered, my voice swallowed by the cavernous silence of St. Trinity Church.

Zoe, my three-year-old daughter, tightly clutched the hem of my coat. She hadn't spoken a single word in six months-Selective Mutism. Yet, in this massive, crowded church, no one cared about her silence.

My eyes scanned the rows of somber, black-clad figures, eventually landing at the very front.

There he was. My husband.

Jared Montgomery stood tall and imposing, an island of cold indifference. As the star captain of the New York Sabers, he was the prince of the city's ice hockey dynasty. Even at his own grandmother's funeral, he looked untouchable.

I tried to catch his eye, hoping for just a flicker of acknowledgment. A sign that we were a family, navigating this grief together.

His gaze swept past me without a single pause. It was a dismissive, vacant glance, as if I were a complete stranger. As if the fragile little girl trembling beside me wasn't his own flesh and blood.

A familiar, biting coldness seeped into my chest.

Then, the heavy oak doors of the church creaked open, and the atmosphere in the room instantly shifted.

A woman with platinum blonde hair slipped inside. She wore a tailored black designer dress that hugged her curves perfectly, looking more like a movie star on a red carpet than a guest at a funeral.

Crystal Sellers.

But what made my blood truly run cold wasn't her delicate, heartbreakingly fragile expression. It was the little boy, about three years old, holding her hand.

I watched as Jared-my cold, ruthless husband who hated public displays of emotion-suddenly moved.

He didn't walk toward his grieving mother. He didn't walk toward me.

He strode directly toward Crystal.

Right in front of hundreds of elite guests and flashing press cameras outside the stained glass windows, Jared wrapped his arm protectively around Crystal's waist. He then leaned down and picked up her son, burying his face in the boy's neck, shielding the child from the blinding flashes with his broad shoulders.

They looked like the perfect, tragic family.

The whispers in the pews erupted, sharp and intentional, stabbing into my ears.

"Is that the Montgomery's legal wife in the corner? She looks pathetic."

"I heard she forced him into marriage when he was injured. Now that his first love is back... well, you see who he really cares about."

"Look at the way he holds Crystal's son. The wife's kid must be a total disappointment."

A suffocating pain clawed at my throat.

Four years ago, a horrific car crash nearly ended Jared's hockey career. Both of his legs were shattered. I was the sports rehabilitation specialist hired by his grandmother to save him. I stayed up countless nights, designing his recovery algorithms, pulling him out of his darkest depression.

The night he finally stood on the ice again, he got blackout drunk. He pulled me into his arms, burying his face in my neck, his broad shoulders shaking.

"Crys... please... don't go..."

I had hugged him back so tightly, my heart breaking for him, thinking he was just crying. I thought his tears were for his miraculous recovery. I gave him my body, my career, my entire life.

Only today, looking at the blonde woman crying delicately into his chest, did the cruel, sickening truth finally hit me.

He wasn't crying.

He was calling her name. Crystal.

Nausea churned, hot and acidic in my stomach. I squeezed Zoe's hand, anchoring myself to the present, fighting the urge to shatter into a million pieces.

After the priest finished the eulogy, Jared finally walked over to me.

For a split second, I foolishly hoped he came to check on Zoe.

Instead, his eyes were freezing cold, carrying a sharp, impatient warning. "There are a lot of media outside. Keep Zoe out of sight. I don't want any trouble or embarrassment at my grandmother's funeral."

My heart turned to ash. I looked at this man I had loved for four years. "Embarrassment? You are holding another woman's son in front of the press, treating him like a prince, and you think Zoe is the embarrassment?"

Jared's jaw tightened, his tone laced with absolute authority and a hint of disgust. "Crystal just got back from Europe. She's vulnerable, and the press is hounding her. She needs my protection right now. Don't be so sensitive and unreasonable, Jensen."

With that, he turned his back on me without a second of hesitation. He walked right back to Crystal's side, pulling out his personal handkerchief to gently wipe a tear from her cheek.

I stood there, completely invisible.

I swallowed the bitter taste of blood in my mouth, picking up my silent daughter. I couldn't breathe in this room anymore. I carried Zoe out of the main hall and retreated to the family resting room at the back of the church.

I placed Zoe on a small sofa, trying to calm my racing heart. I just needed to survive this day.

But less than five minutes later, the heavy door of the resting room was pushed open with a loud bang.