The Unwanted Wife's Escape

The Unwanted Wife's Escape

Gavin

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For ten years, I was Mrs. Ethan Cole, the perfect half of Manhattan's "Power Couple," living in a penthouse straight out of a magazine. I believed in our vows, even if love felt distant. Then, at a grim police precinct, I overheard him. My husband, Ethan, praised his assistant, Chloe, "She's not like Ava. Chloe has self-respect. She wouldn't just... offer herself up like that." My world shattered. Ten years, my entire adult life, reduced to a woman he deemed disposable, lacking "self-respect." He proved it, dismissing my car accident, then allowing Chloe to maliciously frame me at Thanksgiving. He even grabbed my arm, his fingers biting into my skin, all to protect her. I was his property, an inconvenience, nothing more. How had I been so blind to the depth of his contempt? How could a relationship built on duty devolve into such cruel neglect and humiliation? The man who was supposed to be my protector had become my tormentor. That night, my voice steady, I told him, "I want a divorce." His rage erupted, demanding I "come home," threatening to make my life a living hell. But the compliant wife was gone. My only regret was not leaving sooner. This was no longer a marriage; it was my fight for freedom, my chance to finally live.

Introduction

For ten years, I was Mrs. Ethan Cole, the perfect half of Manhattan's "Power Couple," living in a penthouse straight out of a magazine.

I believed in our vows, even if love felt distant.

Then, at a grim police precinct, I overheard him.

My husband, Ethan, praised his assistant, Chloe, "She's not like Ava. Chloe has self-respect. She wouldn't just... offer herself up like that."

My world shattered.

Ten years, my entire adult life, reduced to a woman he deemed disposable, lacking "self-respect."

He proved it, dismissing my car accident, then allowing Chloe to maliciously frame me at Thanksgiving.

He even grabbed my arm, his fingers biting into my skin, all to protect her.

I was his property, an inconvenience, nothing more.

How had I been so blind to the depth of his contempt?

How could a relationship built on duty devolve into such cruel neglect and humiliation?

The man who was supposed to be my protector had become my tormentor.

That night, my voice steady, I told him, "I want a divorce."

His rage erupted, demanding I "come home," threatening to make my life a living hell.

But the compliant wife was gone.

My only regret was not leaving sooner.

This was no longer a marriage; it was my fight for freedom, my chance to finally live.

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