Divorce? His Biggest Mistake

Anastasia: A silly crush, that's all it took to ruin my entire life because here I was four years later with no family but the man I gave everything up for, the man who now wanted nothing to do with me, the man who was madly in love with someone else, and the sad part of it was I brought a human in it, a human who had to suffer because of my mistake. Well, enough was enough. It was time to reclaim my position and give my daughter a better life, with or without him, but definitely without him, and he wouldn't just walk free; he would pay for every tear my daughter and I shed.

William: The marriage was never supposed to happen; she tricked me into it; she ruined my chance at love because now I had to marry her whether I liked it or not. I never loved her, and I did everything to make sure she experienced hell on earth, but when she proposed divorce, I panicked; my heart skipped a beat for the first time in four years. I was afraid to lose her; I couldn't let her go. I had to fight for her; I had to win her back. I couldn't let another man take her and my daughter from me. I had to save my family.

WASHINGTON, SEATTLE 2022

~ANASTASIA~

Most stories open up in a decent environment, but mine opened up in a rather rathole—a prison cell. I tried to pinpoint the moment everything went wrong, but I couldn't. I don't even know when my perfect world flipped upside down, let alone how I got here.

Never in my life did I imagine I’d be in a prison cell, let alone because of the man I love.

God, life can be so unpredictable!

I was staring at the dirty ceiling, watching the spiders scurry around. I don't even know how I didn't throw up with this place smelling like it does, full of rats.

“Mrs. Rogers?” A guard's voice snapped me back to reality. “You're going home,” she said as she unlocked the cell. A smile crossed my face at the thought of my husband.

Finally, I was going home; my husband was here for me; I thought he had forgotten about me.

I followed the guard as she led me out of the cell to the reception, but as we reached there, I saw a man I wasn't expecting. I looked at the door, hoping to see my husband. He might be on a call or something.

“Here are your things, Mrs. Rogers; you're free to go.” I heard an officer who was at the reception say, “You just need to sign here.” He sounded kind. I quickly turned and grabbed the document from his hands. I wanted to see who had bailed me out, but I was disappointed to find it was not my husband.

“Of course, it's not him,” I muttered under my breath, feeling disappointed; my