A Wedding Offer that Made my Ex Husband Crawled Back

The slap I gave Summer echoed across the room like thunder.

But she didn’t hesitate. Her palm struck my cheek just as hard, and before I knew it, we were tangled—hair-pulling, screaming, fury exploding from years of betrayal, silence, and pain.

“You deserve nothing!” she hissed, trying to claw at my arms.

I shoved her back. “And you deserve everything that’s coming!”

We were interrupted by Treston’s footsteps pounding down the stairs.

“What the hell is going on?!”

Before I could speak, Summer turned, her performance instant.

“She attacked me!” she cried out, pretending to sob, rushing into his arms. “I was just trying to calm her down, and she snapped! She doesn’t want me or Joshua in this house—she’s been hateful, jealous—”

“Liar!” I shouted.

But it didn’t matter.

Treston’s eyes were already filled with disgust. “How dare you,” he said, storming toward me. “You lay your hands on her again?! After everything?!”

He slapped me. Hard. Again.

My head snapped to the side, but I didn’t cry. I just stared at him.

“You’re done,” he growled. “You’re locked in your room. Finish everything for tomorrow’s investor meeting. If you fail this, I swear—your father’s life is over.”

They dragged me to my room and locked the door. The sound of the lock clicking was far too familiar.

But this time… I didn’t feel trapped.

I opened my laptop. Pulled out the flash drive. Reviewed the investor files one last time.

Then I composed the message.

Niccolo,

Here are the documents for the investors. Take everything. Steal it from Treston. He doesn’t deserve a single piece of this company.

He replied almost instantly.

Sure thing, baby. For you. See you tomorrow.

A few hours later, the door burst open again. It was Summer.

“Oh good, you’re still awake,” she said breezily, not bothering to look at me. “Treston said you can come out now—but just for a bit.”

I didn’t move. I didn’t answer.

Then a small figure ran past her into the room—Joshua, holding a sandwich in one hand and a juice box in the other.

“Look who’s here!” Summer cooed, ruffling his hair. “Go say hi to your new nanny.”

Before I could react, Joshua threw the sandwich at me, smearing ketchup down my blouse. Then he giggled and shouted, “You’re a monster! I don’t want you here!”

I swallowed hard, forcing back the sting in my eyes.

Summer smiled sweetly. “Oops. He’s so full of energy these days. Anyway…” she said, already turning around. “I need to meet Treston in the study. Investor prep, you know?”

She looked back at me over her shoulder with a cruel smirk.

“Since you’re staying here rent-free and all,” she added, “be useful and look after him. I mean, he does need a nanny, and clearly I’m busy.”

She didn’t wait for a response. She left, laughing, her heels clicking confidently down the hallway. And I was left all night with their son—who hates me!

The next morning, the house was alive with noise—Treston barking orders, Summer putting on her "supportive partner" act, Joshua wailing in the background like the chaos belonged to all of us.

I dressed calmly. Neutrally. Played the part for the last time.

Treston entered the living room, perfectly pressed in a charcoal gray suit.

“Is everything ready?” he asked sharply.

“Yes,” I said, handing him the flash drive. “Your presentation files and talking points are in there.”

“Good,” he said, grabbing it. “I’m taking Summer with me first. You follow with the second car. Make sure nothing is messed up. The investors are expecting greatness today.”

“Of course,” I replied with a tight smile.

The moment they left, I turned my back on the house and walked straight upstairs where Joshua was playing.

Third person’s pov

Treston adjusted his cuffs and glanced at the clock.

The boardroom was ready. Everything was supposed to be perfect.

Until he slid the flash drive into the laptop. He didn’t expect what played. The screen flickered—then came the unmistakable sound of moaning.

Treston froze. Video footage filled the screen. His face. Summer’s voice. Their bodies. Their affair—every dirty angle recorded, timestamped, unfiltered.

“Sir?” a staff member knocked on the door, half-opening it. “We tried opening the presentation file on our end as backup… but it’s blank. There’s nothing.”

“Also…” another staff member rushed in, breathless. “The investors… they’ve canceled. They just left. They said they don’t want to be associated with the Villarez Group anymore.”

Treston stood still. His fists clenched.

“Call Amber,” he ordered tightly. “Now.”

They tried. No answer.

He pulled out his phone and texted her furiously.

Where are you? What the hell did you do?! Come back here right now.

No reply. No call. No read receipt.

That’s when the mail was handed to him. A sleek, matte-black envelope. He ripped it open. Inside—her resignation letter. And below it… the divorce papers. Signed. No, he didn’t agree to this!

Treston’s hands crumpled the envelope as his rage exploded. He shoved the contents off the boardroom table, sending files flying.

“FIND HER!” he bellowed. “Check the house, call the drivers, check the damn gate logs—do something!”

A few frantic minutes later, the butler called back.

“Sir,” he said hesitantly, “I checked every room. Miss Amber isn’t in the house.”

Treston’s fists shook. “Cut her father’s life support,” he spat. “Right now. Let her come crawling back!”

A second call came through—not even a minute later—from the hospital.

“Sir… we can’t do that.”

“What do you mean you can’t?” Treston snarled. “He’s under my authorization!”

“Not anymore,” the nurse replied. “He was transferred yesterday. A private medical team came with court orders and signed releases. He’s no longer under your care.”

Before he could utter a single word, the boardroom doors burst open.

Summer came running in, breathless and pale, her heels clattering against the marble floor.

“Treston!” she cried out, panic twisting her voice. “Treston—our son's gone! Joshua’s missing!”