ManyWriters

In the seventh year of our marriage, my husband, Lewis, was entangled with his assistant.
Every time I caught him, he would tearfully promise to break it off, only to turn right around and go back to her.
The same drama played out dozens of times.
At the brand launch event, his assistant intentionally pushed me, spilling champagne all over my face.
Just as I was about to explain, Lewis rushed over to shield her and slapped me across the face.
"Miranda! You can't even hold a glass of champagne steady, and you dare to hit Natalie? Get the hell out!"
Dozens of executives and employees in the audience watched as I, the founder of the brand, was humiliated.
I clutched my face and suddenly burst out laughing.
"I can't stand myself either, for I should have divorced you long ago."
Next morning, the entire company received a notice.

Reclaiming Myself After Divorce

But this time, she was acting too abnormally. She had calmly presented the divorce papers, and when he refused, she didn't argue or cause a scene.


He remembered the last time she'd demanded a divorce, Miranda had smashed everything in the house.


Lewis drove, his heart in a panic, his thoughts growing more and more chaotic.


A moment of distraction, and the car slammed violently into the roadside guardrail.


His head hit the airbag hard, and his vision went black for a moment.


Staggering, he pushed the car door open and steadied himself against the guardrail, blood from his temple trickling down his cheek.


"Miranda, what the hell are you up to!"


He gritted his teeth and pulled out his phone, but the call only went to a cold, automated message saying the phone was off.


Suddenly, his chest felt as if it had been hollowed out. Lewis's vision went black, and he collapsed to the ground.


When he woke up again, it was the next morning.


Chapter 9