The Husband Who Fell in Love With Me Twice

I had prepared for heartbreak, but not for this.

SELENE

"I want a divorce."

The words trembled on my lips as I stared at the envelope clutched in my hands, the thick cream paper inside heavy with finality.

"Three years with you have been hell and I... I..." My voice cracked. I squeezed my eyes shut as pain flooded my chest.

"No, Selene. No."

I opened my eyes and met my reflection in the mirror. She looked tired. Hollow. Like someone who had cried too much and hoped for too long.

"We had practiced this for days." I whispered bitterly to myself. "And you still couldn't say it."

With a shaky breath, I opened the envelope and slid out the divorce papers. The edges trembled between my fingers.

It had taken me three years to finally gather the courage to leave this hell disguised as marriage. Three years of silence, endurance, and pretending everything was fine.

What had taken me so long?

Fear? Hope? Foolish love that was never returned?

I had loved Sebastian. Truly. Even now, the memory still burned of how the younger me used to watch him from afar, of how my heart used to race with a foolish crush I never thought would matter. When our families decided we would marry to strengthen business ties, I hadn't been angry. I hadn't been afraid.

A part of me had even been... hopeful.

Maybe this was fate, I had thought.

Maybe this was my chance.

Even when he treated me like I didn't exist, I had held on. I had convinced myself I could change him, that I could fix what was broken inside him. I believed that if I loved him hard enough, patiently enough, he would eventually love me too.

How naïve I had been.

It wasn't until I heard another woman's name fall from his lips in his sleep that reality finally shattered my illusion. In that moment, everything became painfully clear.

I would never be the one he wanted.

I would never be the woman he loved.

So I stopped hoping.

I stopped believing.

I accepted the truth that nothing between us would ever change.

And I made my decision.

I wouldn't trap him in this marriage any longer. Because deep down, I knew... he wanted this divorce more than anyone. He just didn't want to be the one to say it. So he pushed me away. Frustrated me, hurt me, waited for me to give up.

He won.

I lost.

My gaze dropped to the documents again, my heart pounding wildly, as if begging me to change my mind. But I didn't. I straightened my shoulders and nodded slowly, as if answering myself.

"I've got this." I whispered.

Then I turned toward my room, ready to dress up and face the end of a story I had once believed would last forever.

Earlier today, I had sent Sebastian a message, asking him to come home because I needed to talk to him about something important. As expected, he saw it and ignored it.

He left no reply.

No acknowledgment.

I told myself it didn't matter. Whether he responded or not, all that mattered was that he showed up.

I walked into my closet and my eyes landed on the red lace dress I had bought recently. I had chosen it for today. If this was the end, I wanted to look beautiful while saying it.

So I slipped it on, applied light makeup, and stared at my reflection for a long moment before forcing myself to turn away.

Then I walked to the living room.

I placed the envelope carefully on the table, as if it were fragile, and sat on the couch. The ticking of the wall clock echoed loudly in the quiet room.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

My heart raced with it.

It was 7:30 p.m.

Just thirty minutes left.

My palms were damp, my legs restless, my mind spinning with a thousand thoughts I couldn't control. I kept glancing at the door, half-dreading, half-waiting for it to open.

Desperate for any kind of distraction, I grabbed the remote and turned on the television.

The screen flickered to life.

And there he was.

Sebastian Kingsley in an interview.

A bitter scoff escaped my lips. "I asked for a distraction and this is what I get instead." I muttered.

I let the remote slip from my fingers, where it landed softly beside me on the couch. My back sank into the cushions as boredom crept in, the host's endless business questions washing over me like meaningless noise. They talked about stocks, expansion, profit margins. The same old story.

I yawned just as the host leaned forward and smiled brightly at the camera.

"So, Mr. Kingsley," she said playfully, "how is married life treating you?"

My heart jolted. I straightened instantly, every trace of drowsiness gone.

Sebastian chuckled effortlessly, like he'd rehearsed this moment.

"Married life?" He repeated, then shrugged casually. "Honestly, I've been swamped with work. The company has been expanding, and that's my main focus right now."

Work.

Always work.

My lips pressed into a thin line. What on earth had I been expecting?

The host laughed. "You always manage to dodge that question." She teased. "Every time we bring up your wife, you change the subject."

She tilted her head thoughtfully. "You know, if it weren't for the wedding ring on your finger, no one would even know you're married."

The audience burst into laughter.

But I didn't.

My gaze dropped to the screen, to the silver band circling his finger. That was the only proof that I existed in his world. And even that... meant nothing.

Sebastian simply smiled, saying nothing.

And somehow, his silence hurt more than any cruel words ever could.

My eyes burned. I rose from the couch and walked unsteadily to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of wine and a glass. I poured wine and downed it in one gulp.

"I won't cry." I whispered to myself. Just for today, I refused to let a single tear fall.

With the bottle of wine in one hand and the glass in the other, I walked back to the couch and sank into it slowly. I took slow sips, pretending it was enough to numb the ache inside me.

Time blurred.

My eyelids grew heavy, sleep threatening to pull me under when I suddenly jolted upright. I blinked and turned toward the wall clock.

10:00 p.m.

And Sebastian still wasn't home.

A bitter sigh escaped my lips as I reached for my phone from the table. Maybe he had sent a message. Maybe an apology. An excuse.

Nothing. My screen remained painfully empty.

My brows furrowed and something hot twisted in my chest. Without thinking, my fingers flew across the screen, typing aggressively, pouring out every unspoken thought I had swallowed for three long years.

"You said you'd be home by eight. It's ten now.

I just wanted to talk, is that too much to ask?"

I hit send, my fingers trembling. But the words weren't enough. The hurt inside me kept spilling.

"I can't keep doing this anymore, Sebastian. Being invisible in my own marriage is killing me."

I sent it before I could change my mind.

Seconds passed.

Then minutes.

The small blue ticks appeared—seen.

Still no reply.

Against my better judgment, I did the one thing he had warned me never to do.

I called him.

The phone rang.

And rang.

And rang again.

Just when I thought he wouldn't pick up, the call connected.

I didn't give him a chance to speak.

"Do you enjoy this?" I burst out, my voice shaking. "Ignoring me like I don't exist? Do you have any idea how humiliating this feels, waiting for you like some fool?"

Three years of swallowed pain poured out all at once.

"I don't deserve to be treated this way." I whispered, my voice breaking as the tears I'd been holding back finally spilled over. "I can't do this anymore. I want a divorce. I'll disappear from your life for good. Hope you're happy now."

There was no answer.

Just silence and the faint hum of an engine on the other end of the line.

Even after everything I said, he still ignored me.

"I hate you, Sebastian Kingsley." I muttered, before ending the call. The moment the line went dead, I broke down completely, sobbing like my heart was being torn apart piece by piece.

I didn't know how long I cried. Minutes? Hours? Time lost meaning.

Then my phone rang.

But I was beyond shocked to see the caller was Sebastian.

He never called. Not once. Was this his way of telling me he wanted the divorce too?

I almost ignored it. But the phone kept ringing, the sound echoing loudly in the quiet room. With shaky fingers, I finally picked up, saying nothing.

"Hello?"

The voice wasn't his.

It was a woman.

I closed my eyes, exhaustion washing over me. How much more does he plan to hurt me?

"Hello, is this Mrs. Kingsley?" The voice asked again, polite and calm.

"Yes." I replied coldly, reaching for my glass of wine. "So?"

"I'm calling from Evercare Hospital."

My grip tightened around the glass.

"This is to inform you that your husband was involved in a tragic accident, and your presence is urgently required here."

The glass slipped from my hand and shattered against the floor.

Sebastian… had an accident?