AFTER THE TENTH DIVORCE; I FINALLY SET HIM FREE

ALYSSA'S POV

“I love her so much… so much I could die for her. I doubt I’d ever survive if she left me.”

I stared at the words, the ink blurring as my vision clouded.

I huddled on the cold floor of our bedroom, the letter I’d found hidden beneath the dust bunnies under our bed clutched in my trembling hands.

If you read that sentence, you’d think it was the most romantic confession in history. You’d think Nick was a man possessed by devotion.

How I wished that were the truth.

My eyes skipped down the page, finding the jagged, cruel reality of his handwriting.

“But I’m having fun with the fact that she’s chasing me. The fact that she’s obsessed and would do anything is what I enjoy. Why would I chase her when she’s already at my feet?”

"I can’t tell her I love her. If I do, she’ll stop. I’m scared I’d fall out of love, or she wouldn't love me anymore.”

A sob had torn from my throat as I’d crumbled to the floor, weeping for the thirteen years I’d wasted playing the fool.

Thirteen years.

I’d loved Nick since I was the class president and he was the school’s golden boy, the basketball star with a perfect and hot body.

I was a top-five beauty, sure, but I didn't have the courage to even look at him until the day he moved in next door.

I had been so overjoyed and I decided then that I would win him.

I played the obsessed girl, the one who threw banners and made public proclamations.

I chased him for two years until he finally agreed to date me on graduation day, claiming he was just trying to move on from his first love, Lily.

It took another two years of me begging—literally going down on one knee to propose—before he finally said “I do.”

I thought I could change him. I thought if I loved him enough, he’d finally see me.

But then Lily came back and for the last four years of our marriage, Nick had treated me like garbage.

He flaunts his affair with her to make me jealous, shaming me publicly, telling me I’d torn him away from his soulmate.

He always finds every opportunity to humiliate me, blame me and push me away.

Nine times.

We have been divorced nine times.

Every time I over-salted the soup, or wore an outfit that outshone Lily, or didn't show her enough respect, he’d drag me to the bureau. And every time, I would crawl back. I would beg on my knees for weeks until he agreed to reinforce the license.

Two weeks ago, my wedding ring had slipped off and rolled under the bed and I'd found the letter tucked underneath the bed like a piece of truth never to be discovered.

Finding that letter was the eye-opener I didn't know I needed and for seven days, I’d worn a mask. I’d been the doting, happy wife while my heart turned to ash.

A man who could manipulate me for over a decade wasn't a man worth craving, wasn't a man worth loving nor waiting for. I was done.

Now, I'm basically counting the countdown for the next spark to light the fire. I'm waiting for another divorce and then I'd leave for good.

The sound of heavy footsteps echoed on the stairs. My head snapped up.

Nick walked into the dining room, his silk shirt half-undone, revealing those abs that used to make my breath hitch. Now, they just looked like a cage I’d been trapped in.

I sat at the table, my grip tightening on my steak knife as I sliced into the meat and took a deliberate bite.

Nick stopped mid-stride, his handsome face contorting into a look of pure disgust.

"Who gave you the right to start eating without me, Alyssa?"

I didn't look up.

I chewed slowly, swallowed, and then met his icy blue gaze.

"I called you three times in the last twenty minutes, Nick. I got tired of waiting and besides the food was getting cold."

I knew exactly what I was doing. I was poking the beast.

"You're getting bold, Alyssa," he hissed, slamming his hand on the table.

"You’ve forgotten your place! Maybe a few weeks in a hotel will remind you who provides for this life. We’re done. Get your coat—we’re going to the bureau.”

I dropped my cutlery. The silver clattered against the porcelain with a sharp ping.

Usually, this was the part where I’d start shaking, where I’d burst into tears and promise to be better. But today, though my heart ached with a dull, phantom pain, I just stared at him.

"Don't even think about pleading," he continued, pacing like a predator. "I won't hear it. You've pushed me too far this time, and Lily…"

"Okay," I said.

He froze.

The silence that followed was deafening. He blinked, his brow furrowing as if he’d misheard me.

"What did you say?"

"I said okay, Nick. I agree. Let’s get divorced." I reached into my pocket, pulled out our marriage certificate—the one we’d just reinstated two weeks ago and I'd always carry with me for the past few days, quietly waiting for him to say those words—and tossed it onto the table. It slid across the wood, stopping right in front of him.

Nick’s face flushed a deep, angry red. The fact that I wasn't cowering at his feet seemed to annoy him.

"You think you can play hard to get with me? You think acting nonchalant is going to make me chase you? Fine. You want to act strong? Let's go."

He snatched the paper, grabbed my arm in a grip so tight I winced, and began dragging me toward the front door.

"Don't you dare start crying halfway there," he growled, shoving me into the passenger seat of his car. "I'm not falling for it." I didn't give a response.

Just complete silence.

The drive to the bureau was silent. When we stepped inside, the clerk behind the counter looked up and let out a weary, audible groan.

"You two again?" she muttered. "This is the tenth time, Mr. and Mrs. Miller. Are you serious?"

"She's a nuisance," Nick snapped, shoving the license across the counter. "I can't take another minute of her. Process it."

I watched the clerk’s fingers fly across the keyboard. My chest felt tight, a final sob threatening to break through, but I swallowed it down.

This was it.

The lady slid a document back to us. "You are now officially divorced. Again."

Nick grabbed his copy, glaring at me with a smirk that didn't reach his eyes.

"Hope you enjoyed your little stunt, Alyssa. This time, I'm not going to make it easy for you to come back. You'll be begging on your hands and knees for a month before I even think about signing a new license."

He turned on his heel and barged out of the office, leaving the heavy glass doors swinging in his wake.

I stood there, the paper trembling in my hand as tears finally spilled over. He was right about the fact I was a fool for him but he was so, so wrong about the rest.

This time I was leaving, I wasn't coming back.

It was our tenth and last divorce.

Slowly, I pulled my phone from my pocket, my fingers trembled as I scrolled past Nick’s name and unto a contact I hadn't touched in years—Ethan Vance.

Nick’s arch-rival.

The man who had everything Nick had, but with a soul. The man who had pursued me relentlessly in college, only for me to reject him a thousand times because I was blinded by Nick.

The phone rang twice before a deep, smooth voice answered.

"Alyssa? To what do I owe the unexpected honor?"

I took a deep breath, watching Nick's car disappear in the distance.

"Ethan," I said, my voice steady and cold. "You once told me if I ever woke up, I should call you." I wiped off the tears as my chest tightened.

“I’m awake…and I’m ready to marry you."