Out Of Your League, Dear Ex-Husband

Chapter 4

Word Count: 690 | Released on: Today at 17:56

n John

Kimber's sofa. It was small, but I sl

relentless vibration of my phone. A s

creen without a flicker of emotion. I sil

what I was doing, and gave me a thumbs-up. "Go

system, but it made me feel sharp and awake. "I need to see

t first, you need to eat." She point

te, but I force

o leave, my phone rang a

ged me, "Answer it. Wh

's voice, tight with suppressed anger.

ugh. "They were dis

hiding in your poor friend's crappy apartment? D

st to repeat this nonsense, I'm hanging

the background. It was quiet, but I heard it clearly. "Armani, h

d call button. I recognized

A name I refused to even c

e phone, then quickly tried to cover. "Carlee

s my own, chimed in, full of playful complaint. "What TV

rld st

woman I had trusted with my deepest secrets, the

rned to ice

d suddenly weak. It slipped from

my side, grabbing my arm. "Carl

t no sound came out.

mple betrayal. A conspiracy.

s so desperate for a divorce. Why Im

ver me. I ran to the bathroom and retched into the toilet, but th

he door. "Carleen! Open

my reflection in the mirror. A pale

rock bottom. I was wro

, again and again, trying to for

ber was waiting, her f

e of strength I had, I said, "Kimber

morphed into shock, then in

I knew there was something wr

Chapter End

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Out Of Your League, Dear Ex-Husband

Lila Romance

“On our third wedding anniversary, I was on my knees scrubbing a wine stain out of a hotel carpet for my in-laws. That same night, my husband, NHL star Armani Tillman, won the MVP trophy on live TV, thanked his fake PR girlfriend, and called me to demand a divorce. He sent a lawyer the next morning with an agreement leaving me with absolutely nothing but a strict gag order. Worse, when I checked our home security cameras, I saw him tangled in our bedsheets. The woman wasn't his public girlfriend, but my best friend, Ima. When the betrayal triggered a severe allergic reaction that landed me in the ER, Armani and Ima stood by my hospital bed, looking at me with pure disgust. "Faking a suicide attempt just to stop a divorce? Pathetic." I had given up my dreams to be his hidden, unpaid maid for three years, only to be thrown away like trash by the two people I trusted most. Ima even smiled and told me to just sign the papers and go away quietly. But they didn't know I wasn't just a useless, unemployed housewife. I am Westwind, the legendary anonymous graphic novelist that Armani's biggest sponsor is currently desperate to collaborate with to save his crumbling image. I calmly tore his insulting divorce agreement into pieces and called the most ruthless lawyer in Chicago. This time, I'm taking everything.”