Out Of Your League, Dear Ex-Husband

Chapter 5

Word Count: 736 | Released on: Today at 17:56

n John

tant echo. The world ha

of collapse. Kimber guided me back to

ball, shaking

d lies-they played on a loop in my

n the WAGs shunned me. The one who listened to all

ysically. My stomach cramped. My head t

nk hot water, to take a paink

a soulless puppet, refusi

and finally broke. She went to the balcony with her

e a thundercloud. I knew with

embled with rage. "She had the nerve to deny it. She said I w

me to tell you, Carleen, that you should just accept Armani's

ally exploded, throwing

in my chest, but it was quickly extinguished by an overwhel

in her medicine cabinet, prescribed for

ing milk for me, I found the bott

st shook a few pills into my pa

tarted to blur. But instead of peaceful

I couldn't breathe. Angry red welts

severe allergy to a specific sedative ingredient. I

croak came out. My vision blurred. Kimbe

er, holding me, screami

e awareness, I was

ir was a cacophony of voices and beeping ma

could breathe again. Kimber was hol

on, not..." She didn't finish, but I knew what s

my head, trying

s pulled halfway open. A tall figure st

on a wheelchair, encased in a cast. Even si

d feel his cold gaze on me, like h

d put herself between us. "Wh

just glanced at her, the

to recognize him, letting out a s

Mr. Stone, your test results a

why was he looking at me like that? I had never seen h

ow and impatient, directed at the nurs

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.”