After the Betrayal My Cheating Ex Won't Let Me Go

The phone hit the floor. The screen shattered, flickered twice, and went black.

Jason visibly relaxed. He turned to me, his tone almost casual:

"I slept with Nora. That doesn't mean I don't love you."

"You're still the one I love most. You're still my Mrs. Gilbert."

"You're the one who thinks it's dirty when I find women outside—so I went to Nora instead."

"I chased you this hard, and you still can't see how I feel? I like to play around, sure, but my love for you is real. I've given you so much face already—can't you try to understand me a little?"

I laughed out loud.

So this was it. He'd finally stopped pretending.

Five years ago, Jason fell for me at first sight and pursued me relentlessly. But he wasn't my type. My family situation was complicated, and I didn't want to drag him into it. So I rejected him again and again—and he never blamed me for being cold. He only begged me to look at him one more time.

After countless gestures of goodwill, I finally caved. I agreed to be with him.

I thought I'd found a man who would love me forever. I thought I'd finally have someone to rely on. But one year into our marriage, I caught Jason being inappropriate with Victoria Hartley—the daughter of one of his company's business partners.

The first time I saw their flirtatious messages, I was shaking with anger.

Jason knelt on the floor. "She came onto me. She's a partner's daughter—I couldn't just refuse her outright. I promise I'll shut it down. Even if we lose the deal, I want my wife to feel secure."

I forgave him.

The second time, I went to his office to bring him lunch—and found Lily Monroe, the struggling student I'd been sponsoring, kneeling in front of him.

Again, he had an explanation. She'd thrown herself at him, desperate to take a shortcut. He was just about to turn her down when I walked in. He told me not to make a big deal out of it. It would never happen again.

So I believed him. I knew men like him had no shortage of young women throwing themselves forward. As long as he held firm, that was enough.

But the third time—when I caught him in the act—I found him with his assistant, Megan Price, in our marital bed.

I went back to Victoria and Lily. That's when I learned the truth: Jason had initiated everything.

The divorce battle lasted six months.

After it was finalized, Jason threw himself into winning me back even harder than he'd pursued me the first time. Just days ago, he was on his knees, sobbing, clutching the hem of my dress:

"Claire, without you, my life isn't complete."

"Look—I've deleted every woman from my contacts. Every female employee at the company, young or old, I've transferred them out."

"Look at my phone. The only contacts left are you and your best friend. I kept hers just so I could ask how you've been."

When I saw that his phone only had my number and Nora's, I actually softened.

Now I just found it pathetic.

He'd kept Nora's contact not to check on me—but to make cheating with her more convenient.

Outside women were dirty, so he chose my best friend.

His explanation was revolting.

I said coldly: