After the Divorce, My Ex-husband came Crawling Back

"You should sign quickly." Her eyes stayed on me, her tone both sweet and cruel. "Dragging this out is pointless."

My throat burned with words I couldn't say. With screams I couldn't release.

Something inside me snapped.

I stood up and stepped forward before I could stop myself, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and yanked hard.

She screamed.

"What the hell are you doing?" Maxwell's voice cut through the room, finally showing some emotion.

"Get the fuck out of my house." I dragged her off the couch arm. "And take my nightgown off your damn body."

She clawed at my hands, crying, swearing, calling me crazy. I didn't stop until I pulled her out of the house and shoved her onto the ground outside. She stumbled, catching herself on the gravel.

Maxwell moved fast then, wrapping his robe around her shaking shoulders and pulling her away from me.

"That's enough!" His bark echoed in the night air.

"No." My voice came out calm. "That's marriage."

He stared at me like he didn't recognize me. Good. I didn't recognize myself either.

Selene was gone ten minutes later. Maxwell booked her into a five-star hotel downtown. I heard him on the phone in his study, apologizing, soothing, promising this wouldn't happen again. Promising he'd handle me.

Handle me. Like I was a problem to be solved instead of a woman he had just humiliated.

When he came back downstairs, the tenderness was gone. He was cold again. Business Maxwell. The version of him I knew best.

He pointed at the divorce papers on the table.

"Stop wasting my time and just sign it."

I laughed. A dry, ugly sound that surprised both of us.

"You slept with her in our bed and think I'll sign quietly?"

"My father wanted this marriage. You knew that from the beginning."

"Yes." I held his gaze. "So how exactly do you plan to explain this mess to him?"

His jaw tightened. Maxwell's father was the only person he feared. The old man had arranged our marriage to fix Maxwell's public image after a scandal with a married actress. Clean slate, he'd said. Marry someone respectable.

"You and I both know this marriage was never real." The words came out sharp.

I flipped through the pages slowly. Standard terms. Clean split. A modest payout that was insulting given what I had endured.

"Then let's talk money."

His frown deepened. "What?"

"One billion. Cash or assets. Your choice."

The silence that followed was deep.

Then he laughed, like I'd told the funniest joke he'd ever heard.

"You've been waiting for this."

"No." I kept my voice steady. "I've been surviving."

"You only care about my money."

"If that were true," I met his eyes, "you'd already be broke."

I closed the folder and slid it back to him across the polished wood.

"You want me gone fast. You want this clean. You want to move Selene in before your father finds out what you've done. This is the price."

His eyes darkened, calculation replacing the mockery. Then he nodded once.

"Fine. You want money? I'll give you that…if it will make you stay out of my way."

He pulled out his phone. My screen brightened at that moment, showing a bank alert. A smile tugged at my lip as I raised my gaze to meet his unreadable expression.

I turned away and walked to the couch, my legs finally giving out now that the adrenaline was fading.

He turned and went up the stairs. Several minutes later he left without even a word. He did not come back that night.

At some point after midnight, the nausea hit hard.

I barely made it to the bathroom before I threw up, gripping the cold marble sink so tightly my knuckles went white. My body shook like it was trying to purge more than food. I rinsed my mouth, wiped my face, and stared at my reflection in the mirror.

Pale and exhausted.

"You're fine." The words felt hollow. "You're not weak. You're not losing control."

But my hands were still shaking.

I slept on the couch with all the lights on, my phone clutched in one hand like a lifeline.

Maxwell came back the next morning like nothing had happened.

I heard his car before I saw him. The familiar purr of his Mercedes pulling into the driveway. The sound made my chest tighten, but I stayed seated, legs crossed, coffee untouched on the table in front of me.

He walked in, jacket still on, hair slightly damp. He stopped at the entrance, taking in my posture on the sofa.

"You look comfortable."

"You look like shit."

He did. Dark circles under his eyes. He dropped his keys on the console table and glanced around like he was looking for something.

"Where's Selene's bag?"

"Gone. Along with any illusion you had that I would play nice."

A scoff escaped him. "You assaulted her."

"She wore my nightgown. In my bed. We're even."

He sighed like he was already tired of this conversation, tired of me. "We need to finish this."

"We already started. You just didn't expect me to speak."

He sat down across from me, smoothing his tie. "I agreed to your terms. The money. All of it. What else do you want?"

I could feel the rage burning in him. I knew his reaction when I pushed him too far.

"Yes. And now we continue."

His look could have strangled me.

I pulled out my phone and dialed a number while ignoring his burning gaze. After a moment, two men in dark suits walked in.

Maxwell stood up, clearly thrown off.

"Ariana." He gestured to the two men then back at me. "What the hell does this mean?”

His eyes stayed on my face as if he was searching for the woman he thought he married. The quiet one. The agreeable one. The woman who would swallow her pain, smile through disrespect, and still call it love.