I Left Him after He Chose The Sister-in-law

"Leonidas, if you dare walk out that door, I’m filing for divorce. Right now."

Clementine’s voice sliced straight through the hush of the candlelit ballroom, her microphone screaming feedback as the words burst out. Every guest, decked out in their finest couture and silk, froze mid-conversation. Shock hung thick in the air.

Behind them, the LED screen that had glowed with *Happy Second Anniversary* now blared bright: *Congratulations on Your New Union, Mr. Lopez.*

Those dazzling words cast a harsh spotlight right on the woman in white, curled soft and safe in Leonidas’s arms.

"You done making a fool of yourself?" Leonidas asked. He hoisted the fainted Samara closer as he stepped forward, his huge frame towering over Clementine. "On our own anniversary, you really gotta turn us into the main circus act?"

Quiet snickers and biting whispers rippled through the crowd. Some guy even lifted his champagne glass like he was cheering. "Clementine’s at it again with her over-the-top drama."

"Didn’t she fake a broken wrist last month just to drag Leonidas home early? What’s her stupid game this time?"

Through all the snickering, Clementine just tilted her chin up. Her voice stayed just as calm as it ever was. "Let’s get divorced. Three’s a crowd, and I’m bowing out."

"Clem, don’t be rash. Uncle’s just stuck between a rock and a hard place…" Mckenna Lopez murmured, trying to nudge her into backing down.

"Stuck between a rock and a hard place? What a pretty little excuse!" Clementine’s lips curled into a cold, sharp smile. "Does that cover all the little ‘helping sessions’ Leonidas’s given his sister-in-law, huh? Like when her bathroom floor was ‘too slippery’ and he had to help her? Or when he fed her medicine mouth-to-mouth?"

The whole ballroom went dead quiet.

Everyone knew Clementine had a reputation for throwing all caution to the wind and causing a scene, but this was the first time most of them had seen it live—this woman who truly didn’t care what she said out loud.

Some people even started pitying Leonidas, wondering how he put up with her crazy antics all these years.

"That’s enough," Leonidas growled, his voice barely holding back a roar of rage.

Mckenna hurried after him as he walked away. "Uncle, you really gonna leave Clem here all alone like that?"

"Our marriage is none of your goddamned business," Leonidas shot back icily. He didn’t even glance over his shoulder as he kept walking.

Mckenna stayed rooted to the spot. The chandelier light glinted off her gold necklace when she tilted her head, and her polite, put-together mask never slipped. When she turned back to the crowd—she looked so much like Leonidas, it was almost uncanny—a strange little glint sparked in her eyes. She offered the crowd a soft, apologetic smile. "Please forgive us. My uncle just can’t bear to see any harm come to my brother’s widow. Let’s get back to the evening, shall we?"

Clementine stood alone under all the bright, blazing lights. Her fingers, crusted with crystals from her gown, dug so hard into her palm she didn’t even feel the pain.

Her unrequited love for Leonidas had stretched on for ten whole years.

It all started when she moved to a new neighborhood with her grandparents, right next door to the Lopez family.

The first time she went over to their house, she saw Leonidas walking down the grand staircase.

He was seventeen or eighteen back then, dressed in a crisp white racing suit, and he looked so handsome it hurt—cool, untouchable, everything a young girl could dream of.

Little Clementine fell in love at first sight.

Through her friendship with Mckenna, she’d picked up the same affectionate nickname everyone in the family used for him.

But when her bright, happy "Uncle" left her lips, his face went ice cold. "I’m not your uncle. Stop calling me that."

Back in the day, Clementine used to laugh at that memory, amused that she’d actually managed to fluster the always-composed Leonidas.

Now, when she thought about it? It wasn’t funny anymore.

That very first meeting, there’d been an uncrossable gap between them from the start.

Maybe it was fate—their marriage was never supposed to be born from love.

And it was true. Two years ago, they married because their families arranged it.

He never loved her, but he’d treated her with respect after the wedding, checked all the right boxes, went through all the proper motions.

But after his brother died suddenly, Leonidas’s once-stoic heart started to wander.

For Samara, he’d drop everything and leave Clementine hanging without a second thought.

Planned date nights.

Her birthday…

And now, even their second anniversary—the one day that was supposed to be just theirs—Leonidas could abandon her without even hesitating.

Of course he knew this would turn her into the laughingstock of the whole city.

Of course he knew. He just didn’t care.

What he didn’t know was that this party was his last chance. Her last try to make it work.

Clementine looked down at her hands.

These hands, once able to adjust tiny, millimeter tolerances with perfect precision, didn’t deserve to be chained to a marriage with no love in it.

Thankfully, it wasn’t too late.

---

Late that night, back at the villa, Leonidas pushed open the bedroom door. He found Clementine tossing her wedding ring into the dressing table drawer.

The same ring he’d slid onto her finger three hours earlier at dinner—a hollow reminder of all his empty promises.

Leonidas flicked a glance at the divorce papers spread across the table. "Really going all out this time, aren’t you?"

He wrapped an arm around her waist, his voice soft and intimate, like he was whispering sweet nothings into her neck.

As he spoke, his hand slipped slowly under the hem of her nightgown.

Clementine knew exactly what he wanted.

Every single time she made a scene, this was how he shut her up.

Before, she’d fooled herself into thinking it meant he cared, that he just couldn’t say it out loud.

She believed they could fix any fight between the sheets, that their differences could melt away with intimacy.

But not tonight.

Even so, she couldn’t break free of his grip.

Seeing Clementine go still and unresponsive, Leonidas started kissing her neck slowly, patiently from behind.

Her breath went ragged. Whenever Leonidas was gentle with her, she’d always been completely defenseless.

Until she caught it—That familiar scent of clove.

The fragrance she hated with every fiber of her being. It just so happened to be Samara’s favorite perfume.

In a burst of white-hot rage, Clementine bit down hard.

The metallic tang of blood filled the space between them.

Leonidas only paused for a split second before he lifted her clean off the ground, and the two of them went tumbling back onto the mattress together.

Leonidas’s control snapped, and he couldn’t hold back any longer…