Too Late To Want Me Back, Ex Husband!

ELARA

"Prepare the divorce papers, Cassius."

My voice came out with a terrifying lack of emotion. Cold even, considering I was sitting there watching, on the high-definition screen of my tablet, my husband of five years having an intense sex romp with my best friend in the middle of his office.

It was an office I had personally decorated with care. In a company I had poured my soul into helping him build.

"El, are you sure?"

I snarled before I could stop the sound from tearing out of my throat, my fingers white-knuckled around the edges of the device. "If you can't do this simple thing for me because he's your best friend, then say it! I'll find another lawyer who actually values my time."

Sometimes, I really didn't understand Cassius. Yes, he was Shawn's best friend, but he was also the only person in this godforsaken city who actually seemed to care a hoot about the neglected housewife I had become.

He knew everything, had seen the scars of Shawn's mistreatment of me, and I was certain he knew about the adulterous part too. Yet here he was, hesitant, asking me if I really wanted a divorce...

Maybe I shouldn't have called him.

A sudden prickle of anxiety crawled up my spine; what if he told that fool of a husband exactly what I was planning before I could strike?

"El... I'm sorry if you misunderstood me," Cassius said, his voice dropping into a careful, soothing register. "You know I've always wanted you to leave this marriage. I just needed to be sure... this isn't the first time you've reached out to me about this, only to turn back."

I shut my eyes tight as a wave of bitter memory attacked me.

My first year of marriage-a time that was supposed to be pure, marital bliss-had been an unmitigated horror. It was nothing like I expected, especially since I had been Shawn's benefactor from the start.

Even if my blind love hadn't secured his care, the fact that I had literally given him a kidney so he could continue to live should have counted for something in his eyes, right?

Wrong.

I had loved Shawn like a devoted puppy since high school, ever since he stepped in and saved the nerdy, quiet girl from a pack of cruel bullies. I followed him like a loyal sheep through university, keeping my head down despite his endless, public flings. When kidney failure struck him, I didn't hesitate; I stepped forward as a donor.

Fortunately, fate took me, or so I thought.

And to crown it all, his grandfather had insisted he marry me once he recovered-declaring to the whole family that no woman could ever be a better wife than the girl who gave him life.

Shawn had agreed to the match without a single fuss. In my naivety, I thought I had finally been blessed by destiny.

You could imagine my shock when, on our wedding night, he treated