He Treated Me Like Trash, So I Gifted Him Divorce Papers

The morning after Anthony’s call, I woke with a headache that wasn’t from lack of sleep, but from the weight of his voice echoing in my ears. You’ll never get anything without me. His arrogance had followed me into my dreams, poisoning even the small hours of the night.

Gracie was already up, moving about the kitchen when I dragged myself out of bed. The aroma of coffee lingered in the air, bitter and grounding. She slid a mug toward me the moment I sat down.

“You need to keep your strength, Kamilla,” she said softly. “Anthony won’t stop. You know that.”

I wrapped my hands around the warm ceramic, my lips pressed into a hard line. “I know. But I’m not going back.”

Before Gracie could reply, a heavy knock rattled the door. We froze. Another knock followed, harder, more impatient.

Gracie’s brows furrowed. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

My chest tightened. His voice soon confirmed it.

“Kamilla! Open this door. Now!”

The pounding grew louder, the demand more urgent. I stood, squaring my shoulders. “If I don’t face him now, he’ll never leave me alone.”

Ignoring Gracie’s protest, I went to the door and pulled it open.

Anthony stood there, tie loose, eyes blazing. His expression was a storm of fury and disbelief. “So this is where you’ve been hiding,” he sneered. “Pathetic.”

I stayed firm in the doorway, my hand still on the knob. “What do you want?”

“You know damn well what I want.” He stepped closer, his presence imposing, but I didn’t back down. “I want my wife back. You think you can walk out on me, humiliate me with divorce papers, and just move on?”

I met his glare with steady defiance. “I don’t think. I know. That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

His lips curled into a cruel smile. “And how’s that working out for you? You couldn’t even land that job yesterday. Do you think I wouldn’t hear about it? Do you think anyone in this city would hire you without my blessing?”

The words struck like a slap. So he had sabotaged me. My chest burned, but I forced my expression into cold steel. “You destroyed my chance deliberately.”

“Of course I did,” he said without hesitation. “Because you don’t get to leave me and build a new life like I never existed. You’re nothing without me, Kamilla. Nothing.”

My fingers itched with the urge to strike him, but instead, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. One tap, and the video filled the silence. Maris’s laugh, sultry and smug. His own voice, dripping arrogance: ‘She’s nothing but an airhead bitch.’

Anthony’s face drained of color, but he masked it quickly with a scowl. “Turn that off.”

I held the phone firmly. “No. This is who you are, Anthony. Not a respected professor. Not a husband. Just a liar who thought he’d never be caught.”

His jaw clenched. He reached forward suddenly, trying to snatch the phone, but I stepped back, clutching it tight to my chest. Gracie appeared at my side, her voice sharp and unwavering.

“You need to leave, Anthony. Now.”

His glare shifted between us, his eyes narrowing. “You think this is over?” he hissed. “You think you’re free? You’ll come crawling back when you realize the world doesn’t care about you.”

I straightened, meeting his venom head-on. “I’d rather crawl alone than ever stand beside you again.”

“This isn’t over, Kamilla,” he spat before storming off down the hall. The slam of the stairwell door echoed like a gunshot.