Chapter 1
Three months into my marriage with Ethan, I slit my wrists and ended it all.
As I floated there as a ghost watching everything unfold, I expected him to turn the world upside down searching for me. I at least thought he would kneel before my grave while cradling my corpse, consumed by guilt.
This was supposed to play out like some trashy romance novel where the tycoon CEO lost everything. His hair would turn white overnight, his empire would collapse, and he would have no choice but to follow his love to the grave.
But reality was not like that.
Ethan stared at my lifeless body and sneered a single word: "Pathetic."
There was no grand tragedy or redemption arc in sight.
Instead, my death handed his darling ward, Chloe Hayes, the title of Mrs. Hayes on a silver platter.
I looked down at the blade in my hand, and then a thought struck me. Why the hell should I die? Let him rot in my place instead.
The knife hit the floor with a clatter as I shoved it aside and marched out of the room.
Before Ethan could move Chloe into our marital home, I signed the divorce papers with a flourish.
The sting on my wrist snapped me back to reality because my death kept replaying in my head like a grotesque highlight reel.
I had been pushed to the edge thirty minutes earlier when Chloe sent that photo.
Their bodies were tangled in a scandalous embrace with her on top and him beneath. The cramped space inside the car only made the scene worse.
White hot rage seared through my veins at that moment.
I called Ethan once, then twice, but only silence answered me. When I kept calling, he hung up in the middle of the first ring.
Everyone in Brackenford knew I loved Ethan like oxygen, and they all believed I would die without him.
They even called me Nora Wells, the obsessive beauty who would rather die than share her man.
Back then, the mere thought of him with another woman completely broke me. I lost my mind in an instant.
In a frenzy, I created a group chat with all our friends and threatened to kill myself.
Everyone begged me to stop, but only one person responded.
Ethan sent two words: "Go ahead."
Those two words cut deeper than any blade I could ever hold.
I was so desperate to wring even a drop of love from Ethan Hayes that I actually livestreamed myself slitting my wrists on a video call.
Our friends screamed in horror through the screen.
Finally, Ethan reacted by snarling "You crazy witch" before racing home like a bat out of hell.
He actually tore himself away from that woman's arms to come back to me.
Perfect, I thought. That was exactly what I wanted. He was mine, and only mine.
But I had cut too deep, and I bled out right there on camera.
As my spirit hovered above my body, I waited desperately for his breakdown of grief. I wanted him to clutch my lifeless body while sobbing uncontrollably.
Instead, he did nothing but had me cremated.
A month later, he married Chloe and let her usurp my rightful place as his bride.
That suicide taught me one valuable lesson. Loving yourself beats any love a man could ever offer.
Ethan? I was done with him.
That smug, gloating text from Chloe still glowed on my phone screen. I shot back a reply with venom dripping from every word.
Nora: Ethan likes being in control. A desperate slut like you? He would never touch you.
Radio silence followed.
I stepped out of the bathroom and tossed everything I had gathered for that final act into the trash.
Ten years of groveling for crumbs of affection had only chained me to this misery. All those years were completely wasted. To have trapped myself for the rest of my life — how could that ever have been worth it?
I texted Ethan with a cold tone that left no room for argument.
Nora: Sign the damn divorce papers. We are through.
