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After 11 Years of Love, He Filed for Divorce Novel Cover

After 11 Years of Love, He Filed for Divorce

After eleven years of marriage, Vincent Dent suddenly demands a divorce to give another woman a proper title. The dissolution is finalized the very next day, and Vincent quickly vanishes from his ex-wife's life, parading his new lover across social media. However, he underestimates the source of his success. Resolving to teach him a lesson, she completely withdraws her vital backing from his business, leaving him to face the corporate world entirely on his own.
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Chapter 1

After eleven years of marriage, my husband Vincent Dent told me, "We need to get a divorce. I want to give her a proper title."

The very next day, we were at the courthouse.

Since that day, he hadn't returned home, only showing up in his social media feed with her.

As for me, I decided to cut off all support for his company and watch how far he could go on his own.

——

The sky was clear, the sun was shining, and a gentle breeze was blowing. Vincent and I walked into the courthouse together.

As the breeze ruffled my hair, he instinctively reached out to tidy it.

Seeing this, the staff greeted us and showed us to our seats.

"Sorry, we're here for a divorce," I said.

The staff's eyes widened in shock, and they exchanged bewildered glances.

When we stepped into an office, the staff asked us why we were divorced.

Vincent pressed his lips together and stayed silent.

I said on his behalf, "We've grown apart. Our personalities just don't match."

While this was the official line, everyone knew the real reason was that Vincent had someone else he wanted to cherish.

It was an employee from the coffee shop downstairs from his office.

He picked her up and dropped her off from work, stayed by her side when she was sick, and showered her with attention at school events.

Vincent bought her designer clothes, massive bouquets, and even sponsored events just to showcase her.

He had practically become her personal guardian angel.

As for my reason for agreeing to the divorce, it was simpler.

I didn't keep what had already been used by someone else.

Looking at our slightly faded marriage license, the clerk suggested we take a moment to think about the times we once shared.

"I'm busy. Let's get this over with," Vincent said coldly.

His blunt remark hastened the process.

About half an hour later, Vincent and I each received a divorce cooling-off period receipt.

He pressed his lips together.

"Mia, where are you going? Let me give you a ride."

Before I could refuse, he was already heading to the parking lot, bringing the car right to me.

I reached for the passenger seat instinctively but then remembered that we were no longer married.

I met his complex gaze and calmly took the back seat.

The car moved smoothly forward, merging with the traffic.

Even from the backseat, I could tell from the reflection in the rearview mirror that Vincent seemed to be in a good mood.

"Could you turn up the temperature? I'm allergic to pollen, and the cold makes it worse," I said.

Vincent silently handed me a tissue packet.

Vincent and I had known each other since childhood. We dated for four years and were married for seven, so he knew well that I wasn't actually allergic to pollen.

"Mia."

"Mr. Dent, please call me Ms. Miller."

"Alright, Ms. Miller. I'll handle informing both our families about the divorce."

Vincent always liked to take on all matters related to me, and this was no exception.

But he wasn't always this way.

As a child, Vincent was small, skinny, and shy.

He was constantly bullied in kindergarten.

I, on the other hand, was outgoing and, driven by my youthful sense of justice, could be quite a troublemaker.

Because his mother always prepared delicious treats for me, I felt obligated to look out for him.

One day, I climbed up to the kindergarten's PA system and announced to the entire school, "Vincent is under my protection."

This was how Vincent made it through his kindergarten years, eventually growing up to become the handsome, popular guy in high school.