I Divorced My Husband, I Married His Rival

Eva's POV

"I refuse to sit around waiting for when you decide to come back to me," I say, my voice steady even though my insides tremble. "I'm done, Stephan. I'm tired."

The door clicks shut behind him. He walks further into the living room, the divorce papers clenched in his hand.

He lifts them, waving the pages like they're some sort of joke. "Whatever this little act is, it's not working. Take your luggage back to our room."

"Our room?" I let out a short, humorless laugh. "That room hasn't been 'ours' for nearly two years. Stephan, we don't have to fight about this."

A hollow sound escapes his throat.  He runs a hand through his hair, frustration simmering beneath his calm facade.

"You've completely lost your mind," he mutters. "And if you think I'm letting you walk out of here..." He pauses, eyes darkening. "Then you must be much more insane than I thought."

My chest tightens. I grip the handle of my suitcase, trying to pull it from his hand, but he refuses to let go.

"Stop this, please," I whisper. "We can part amicably. It doesn't have to end with hatred."

His laugh is sharp and ugly. "Amicably? When you've been living off me for years? When you spent my money like water, lounging around the house while I kept us afloat? Clothes, food, jewelry. You had everything you wanted."

I flinch. The words sting more than I expect.

"We were married," I manage weakly. "You told me not to work."

He grabs the suitcase from my hand and starts up the stairs. "We are married, Eva. And that's exactly why I'm not signing those papers."

I rush after him, catching up on the staircase and blocking his way with trembling hands pressed to the wall and railing.

"You don't love me anymore," I say quietly. "You don't even respect me. You don't respect the marriage you're pretending to fight for."

"I don't have to love you to be married to you." His tone is flat, his jaw tight. "Now move."

The words hit me like a slap.

I stand there frozen, feeling the final thread that held us together snap in my chest.

He doesn't love me.

Not anymore.

Tears blur my vision as I whisper, "I can't stay in a loveless marriage, Stephan."

"You're going to have to try, Eva!" he yells.

"No." I lift my chin, forcing the words out. "We're over. We've been over for a long time."

His eyes flash. "You're really going to leave me?"

"You left me first," I whisper. "After what happened..." My throat closes. The words tangle with my tears. "You changed after that night. I tried to reach you, Stephan. I tried so hard."

Something flickers across his face, then his expression changes into what I don't expect. 

"So this is it," he says. "This is how it ends."

I nod, silent.

"Fine." His voice turns hard. He grabs the pen from my hand, scrawls his signature across the page, and slams the papers against my chest. "There! Is that what you wanted?"

I clutch the papers before they slip. My hands shake so badly I can barely hold them.

Then, without warning, he shoves one of my suitcases down the stairs. It crashes loudly against the floor below.

"Get out of my house," he snarls. "Drop your car keys. I don't ever want to see you again."

I stare at him, numb.

He brushes past me, shoulder colliding with mine. I stumble, clutching the railing to keep from falling.

He doesn't look back. 

The door slams behind him, rattling the frame.

When silence fills the house again, I break.

A sob tears out of me, raw and uncontrollable. I sink to the floor, clutching my chest as the weight of everything crashes down.

He didn't even apologize. Ten years of my life, erased with a single outburst. Ten years of sacrifices, devotion, love and it all ends like this.

No child. No husband. Nothing left.

Through blurry vision, I spot my suitcase lying at the bottom of the stairs. The divorce papers in my hands are soaked with tears.

I drag myself up, wipe my face, and walk downstairs.

On the hallway table, I set my car keys beside my wedding ring. For a moment, I just stand there, staring at the symbols of the life I'm about to leave behind.

My lips tremble, but I don't cry. Not anymore.

I take one last look at the house that used to be filled with laughter, then walk out into the night.

---

"I'm sorry, ma'am. The card is declined."

The cashier's voice pulls me back to reality.

I blink, trying to process what she just said. "That can't be right. Try it again."

She swipes the card, her expression tightening. "Declined."

A nervous laugh escapes me. "Alright. Try this one."

She does and shakes her head. "Still declined."

My cheeks flush with heat. I can feel the eyes of other customers on me.

"I'm so sorry," I murmur. "It must be a bank issue. My accounts... they're probably frozen."

The cashier's lips press into a thin, skeptical line. "Of course."

Her tone drips with disbelief.

I fumble through my purse, searching for any loose cash. "How much for just one movie ticket and a small popcorn?"

My stomach growls, loud enough to make me laugh bitterly. Popcorn. Of all things, I suddenly wanted popcorn. Maybe because it was simple, salty, warm, uncomplicated. Everything my life wasn't anymore.

She folds her arms. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but I'll have to ask you to leave."

"Leave?" My voice trembles. "I just said I'll pay. I know I have some cash-"

"Ma'am, please," she interrupts, glancing toward security.

"Just tell me how much," I say, my words shaking. "It's been a long day. I only want to see a movie."

"Three hundred dollars."

I force a tight smile. "Fine."

I dig through my bag again, hands trembling as I pull out useless receipts and empty cards. My breath quickens.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her pick up the landline. Panic grips me.

"Please, don't call security," I plead. "I'll leave right now."

"It's too late," she replies curtly. "I gave you a chance."

Two large men appear beside me, both in black uniforms.

"Ma'am, this way," one of them says, grabbing my arm.

"I'll walk by myself," I whisper, but they don't release me.

Humiliation burns through me as they lead me toward the exit. My hair falls forward, hiding my face, but I can still feel the stares of others.

Then, a familiar voice cuts through the noise.

"Eva?"

My body freezes.

I lift my head slowly, turning toward the sound to see Micah.

When he sees me, recognition flashes across his face. He strides quickly toward us, his expression sharp with concern.

"Gentlemen," he says firmly. "She's with me."

"Sir, are you sure?" one of the guards asks.

He nods. "Yes. Release her."

The guards step back, and suddenly I'm free.

Without thinking, I go straight to him. He opens his arms, and I collapse against his chest, gripping his shirt tightly as sobs shake my body.

"Hey, hey," he murmurs softly, stroking my hair. "It's alright. I've got you. What happened?"

I hiccup between sobs. "He froze my accounts, Micah. I just wanted to see a movie."

His jaw tenses. "Stephan?"

The mention of his name makes me flinch. "Yes," I croak.

Micah's eyes darken. "Why would he do that?"

I shrug weakly, wiping at my wet cheeks. "Because he can."

He catches my hand gently, lifting it up. His gaze lingers on my bare finger.

"Where's your ring, Eva?"