Ex-Husband and Stepson's Regrets are Worthless

The next morning, the door creaked open, and before I could react, Cameron’s hand fisted in my hair, yanking me upright. A sharp gasp escaped my lips as pain flared across my scalp.

“Get up,” he ordered coldly. “Make breakfast and get everything ready for us. And be thankful Tyron only got bruises. If something worse had happened, you’d be dead by now.”

I winced but forced myself to look at him. “Cameron, I didn’t push him. He slipped while running.” My voice trembled, but I held firm. “You have to believe me—”

His grip tightened before he shoved me forward. I stumbled but caught myself against the bedpost.

“I don’t have to believe anything,” he spat. “You still yelled at my son. And I didn’t give you permission to do that.”

I stared at him, disbelief thick in my throat. “You never believe me,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “It’s always Nadine. No matter what I say, you’ll always believe her.”

His jaw clenched, eyes darkening with anger. “Why are you bringing up Nadine? She’s not the one at fault here.”

“Then why are you still keeping me?” I demanded, my voice barely above a whisper. “Just divorce me, Cameron. Please… just let me go.”

I dropped to my knees, my hands clutching at the hem of his shirt in desperation. “I’ll leave quietly. You don’t have to deal with me anymore—”

His fingers curled under my chin, lifting my face until I was forced to meet his gaze. A cruel smirk twisted his lips.

“No,” he said simply. “I won’t let you go.”

“Why?” I choked out. “Why are you doing this to me?”

His smirk faded, replaced by cold indifference. “You look like my wife. And you’re convenient. That’s it.”

Then he let go and stepped back, straightening his shirt as if I disgusted him. “Make sure you’re ready for Tyron’s birthday,” he added. “A lot of investors and elite guests will be there. I don’t want any chaos that day.”

He paused at the door, his gaze raking over me in disdain. “And just wear something from my late wife’s closet. Don’t embarrass me.”

With that, he left.

My whole body trembled, but I bit down on my lip, forcing myself to hold it in. Just a few more days. Right after Tyron’s birthday, I would leave and never come back. I just had to endure it a little longer.

But it was breaking me apart. Every moment, every second, was a fresh wound on my soul. And Cameron didn’t even try to hide it anymore—the way he openly slept with Nadine under the same roof, in our home, in our bed.

And the worst part? When he was done with her, he would come to me.

He would pin me down, whispering another woman’s name as he took what he wanted, breaking me over and over again.

All I could do was cry.

Later that afternoon, I stood in the kitchen, preparing lunch, my hands shaking as I chopped vegetables. I was barely holding myself together, just trying to get through the day, when suddenly, a sharp voice cut through the air.

“I hope you’re not trying to poison us.”

Nadine.

I turned to see her leaning against the counter, a smirk playing on her lips. Dressed in a silk robe—one of Cameron’s—I didn’t miss the fresh marks along her neck.

“I don’t have time for this,” I muttered, turning back to the cutting board.

But she wasn’t done. “Poor little Zoe,” she taunted. “Always so obedient. You think playing house will make you his wife? You’ll never be more than a replacement.”

I gritted my teeth, willing myself to stay silent. Just ignore her. Just get through this.

“Or maybe,” she continued, her voice lowering, “you’re starting to enjoy it. Cameron’s touch, even if he’s thinking about his wife—”

“Shut up,” I snapped, the knife in my hand clattering against the counter.

She only laughed. “Oh, did I hit a nerve? Face it, Zoe, you’re nothing but a ghost of a dead woman. Cameron doesn’t love you. And neither does Tyron.”

“Nadine!” I warned, my patience snapping.

A small gasp came from the doorway.

I turned to see Tyron standing there, his tiny fists clenched, his face red with anger.

“You bitch!” he screamed. “Don’t hurt my mother Nadine!”

Before I could react, he stormed toward me and spit at me, the warm saliva landing on my cheek.

I stood frozen, my hands trembling at my sides, my heart breaking into a million shattered pieces.

Tyron glared at me with all the hatred in his tiny body. “You don’t belong here,” he said, his voice shaking. “You’ll never be my mommy.”

I had no words left. No more strength to fight. The only thing I could do was turn away, my hands gripping the counter as silent tears rolled down my cheeks.