ManyWriters

I never imagined the first time I’d see Anderson’s face consumed by raw desire would be in his research lab.
His assistant was pinned under him, locked in a heated kiss, their frantic movements sending papers flying and making a total mess of his desk.
"You're married. We shouldn't be doing this."
When they finally pulled apart, Katelyn’s eyes were glistening with unshed tears, a wounded look on her face.
Anderson’s throat bobbed, his voice low and throbbing with desire. "Don’t you know perfectly well who my wife is?"
"She’s just a damn prop I married to get the research funding. Stiff, boring—she can’t hold a candle to you, not even a little bit."
A satisfied smile spread across Katelyn's face at his words. Their lips crashed together again, clothes ending up strewn all over the floor.
I remember this one time, my mom was in a horrible car wreck. I’d burst into his lab, completely ignoring the rules, just begging him to donate blood. And Anderson? He slapped me, hard, right across the face, in front of everybody.
"If your mother’s life puts my experimental data at risk, then the hope for every sick kid with a heart problem in this whole damn country is shot to hell!"So, the man who always pontificated about his 'noble' ideals could also stoop to every filthy deed imaginable in that so-called 'sacred' lab of his.
I silently slipped the diamond ring off my ring finger.
This marriage... maybe it was a mistake from the very start.

Husband Betrayed Me, I Chose to Withdraw My Investment

Jack, with his new 'bracelet,' was clearly in a much better mood.


When he dropped me off downstairs at my apartment, he grabbed my hand just as I was about to open the car door:


I curled my fingers and gave him a light tap on the head. "You've been chasing me for, like, over ten years, and you're just now getting around to asking?"


"'If you don't give me a straight 'no,' I'm taking that as a 'yes.'"


Jack got out and opened my door. "Happy divorce."


After the movers cleared out all of Anderson's stuff, the apartment felt so much more spacious.


My comic book collection, the one he always said was childish, was back on the living room bookshelf. It actually looked great with the rest of the decor.


I played video games straight through until eight o'clock, and when I glanced at the time, I automatically started towards the kitchen to make dinner.


But then it hit me: I didn't have to deal with all those nitpicky rules anymore.


Chapter 9