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After My Ex–Husband’s Success, Everyone Expected Me to Regret, Not Knowing I Had Already Moved On to Someone Better.
When I insisted on the divorce, he was just an ordinary guy with big dreams. Fast forward a few years, he’s now a household name–and married to my former best friend. Meanwhile, I was scraping by, juggling three waitressing jobs just to make ends meet.
We crossed paths again at an upscale club.
My former friend gave me a pitying look and said, “If you hadn’t been so stubborn about that divorce, you’d be the one living the high life right now. But I guess your luck’s always been just a little off, huh?”
He stood there, calm and composed, holding his new wife’s hand like he owned the world. There was a quiet arrogance about him, an unspoken satisfaction in seeing me stuck in the mud while he basked in the glow of success.
The crowd joined in, chiming with snide comments and treating me like I was nothing but a cautionary tale.
I could see it in his eyes–Ethan Whitmore was enjoying every second of this. He wanted to see me humiliated, crushed, begging for what I’d thrown away.
But here’s the thing: I felt nothing. No regret, no shame, no longing. To me, it was like watching a show fr
detached.
If he was waiting for me to break, he was in for a disappointment
After setting down the fruit tray, I said politely.
“Everything’s here. If there’s nothing else, I’ll be heading out now”
lik
Ethan’s expression stiffened, and he quickly stood up to block my way.
a show from the sidelines, completely
This was the first time we’d seen each other since our divorce six years ago. He still hadn’t let go of the fact that I walked out on him, standing there with that unmistakable lock–demanding an explanation.
And honestly I knew why it was hard for anyone to understand why I left
Back then, we were the golden couple, the kind of pair our families and friends couldn’t stop gushing over. We married surrounded by blessings and good wishes. Life wasn’t luxurious, but Ethan was known for being reliable and family–oriented.
Everyone adored him.
Even my parents used to say, “Fiona, what more could you possibly want? You’re married to a guy like Ethan. Do you know how lucky you are?”
So when I asked for a divorce, I was branded as ungrateful.
My mom slapped me. My dad threatened to cut ties with me. But I didn’t look back. I left Ethan without a shred of hesitation.
Now, standing in front of me, he was the picture of success–sharp suit, confident demeanor, the kind of man people admired.
I smiled faintly. “Even if you’ve become a billionaire now, I still don’t regret leaving you”
Ignoring the stunned looks around me, I added, “In six years, you’ve never once stopped to think about where you went wrong”
I almost envied how shamelessly content he seemed with himself.
What no one knew was just how much I’d suffered in that marriage.
When we first got married, Ethan secretly sold our house while I was away on a business trip.
I came home to find my belongings packed into a few garbage bags sitting in the hallway. That’s how I discovered we no longer had a home.
Exhausted and confused, I called him, hoping for an explanation. All I got was an impatient response:
“My second cousin’s wife needed money for surgery. We’re family–I had to help! What’s the big deal about selling the house?”
I wasn’t against helping people. But shouldn’t we do so within our means? We’d just gotten married, barely making ends meet. Some days, we couldn’t even take care of ourselves.
What hurt the most was that the house was something we’d saved for together. He didn’t even bother to tell me before selling it.
Dragging my bags under the scorching sun, I didn’t even know where I was going to sleep that night. When I broke down crying, his reaction was anger, not empathy,
“All you ever do is cry! The house is sold–it’s done. What more do you want from me? I promise I’ll buy you a mansion someday, okay?”
He hung up on me and took time off from work. I thought it was to help us find a new place to live.
But no. He spent weeks at the hospital, taking care of his second cousin’s wife–a woman who wasn’t even remotely close to him.
Everyone around us praised him for being a saint…
“Fiona, your husband is such a good man. You’re so lucky!”
Even when a neighbor’s cat went missing, Ethan wouldn’t hesitate to spend his nights searching for it after long shifts at work. He’d come home with dark circles under his eyes, ignoring my concern for his health. Only when the cat was safe did he drag his exhausted body back home.
Before we got married, I thought these things were small and endearing a sign of his big heart.
ut after living with him, I couldn’t ignore the way his kindness to strangers contrasted with his indifference toward me.
Fut
Three months after he sold our house, we were living in a cramped rental apartment. And then, life threw another wrench into the gears–l found out I was pregnant.
The doctor warned me that I had a high-risk pregnancy and needed to stay on bed rest for three months. I took a leave of absence from work to focus on the baby.
Ethan thought I was being overly dramatic. Listening to his second cousin’s advice, he decided I was just lazy and didn’t want to work.
So what did he do? He invited a group of elderly relatives to our tiny apartment and expected me to cook and clean for them.
The place turned into a zoo–constant noise, piles of dishes, and trash everywhere. My head throbbed every day, and the chaos pushed me to my limit.
When I finally lost it and told everyone to leave, Ethan exploded.
“They’re my family! If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t even be here today. They raised me when no one else would
“And now that you’ve married me, it’s your responsibility to take care of them too. That’s just how it is,”
His words hit me like a slap in the face. He looked around the messy apartment with disdain, then pointed a finger at me.
“I’m going to bring them back. You’d better clean this place up before I return. And mop the floors while you’re at it
He slammed the door so hard that it bounced back open.
The neighbor passing by clicked her tongue and shook her head.
“You’re just pregnant, not disabled. If you can’t even do basic chores, no wonder Ethan’s so upset.”
Ethan had always been a social butterfly–everyone loved him. Anytime we had a disagreement, it was inevitably spun as my fault.
Back then, I was so stressed and anxious that I dropped to 30 pounds, looking more like a skeleton than a person.
I didn’t care about the whispers and judgment from others; I swallowed my pride and tried to reason with him again and again.
The doctor said I need to rest for the baby’s sake. And let’s not forget, we’re barely scraping by. We can’t afford to keep supporting all these relatives of yours”
2:43 PM
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I couldn’t understand why he insisted on bringing his extended family to live with us in the city. The apartment was tiny, we were sleeping on the floor, and his relatives had perfectly comfortable homes in the countryside, with their own farms and land.
I tried to stay calm and reason with him:
“Ethan, I wouldn’t complain if you sent them half your paycheck every month, but having them stay here is destroying our lives. Don’t you séc that?”
But Ethan wouldn’t listen, He called me selfish and heartless, and we didn’t speak for days.
It wasn’t until I lost more weight, the baby stopped growing, and the doctor advised terminating the pregnancy that he finally, begrudgingly, sent his relatives back home.
But it was too late.
For the sake of my own health, I decided to follow the doctor’s recommendation and let the baby go.
Ethan was furious. “Talready sent my family away! Just eat a little more, sleep a little better, and everything will be fine! I don’t believe for a second that the baby won’t survive if you take care of yourself.”
I was stunned, staring at him like I was seeing him for the first time.
The doctor had said the baby wasn’t healthy and that my life was at risk if we didn’t end the pregnancy. How could he not care about me at all?
a man like him.
In that moment, it felt like the blood in my veins froze. There was no point in trying to explain anything to a man
So, I went alone to have the procedure.
When I got home, pale and weak, he slapped me across the face. I stood there, stunned, as his voice roared in my ears:
“Fiona, you’re a monster! You killed my child!
The whole neighborhood heard about it
Neighbors came by to console Ethan, patting him on the back and singing praises about his kindness.
No one said it outright, but their looks said it all–they hated me. A few self–righteous “helpers” even made snide remarks:
“Poor Ethan. He was so excited about becoming a father. Goes to show, you really need to marry a good woman. Even the nicest guy won’t have a good life with someone like that.”
Ethan could have explained my side of the story. He could have told them why I made that painful decision.
But he didn’t.
He basked in their sympathy, wallowing in his role as the victim.
I looked at him, exhausted beyond words, and asked, “Are you done pretending?
No one grieved for that child more than I did. No one hurt more than I did. And yet, I wasn’t the one at fault.
“Ethan, why do someone like you even bother getting married? All you do is ruin the lives of the people closest to you.”
“It’s miserable being around you. Go ahead and keep loving the rest of the world–I won’t stop you. I want a divorce:
I packed my things and left. Before I walked out, I slapped him back.
He pressed a hand to his reddened cheek but didn’t say a word to stop me.
He didn’t have to.
There were plenty of people ready to take his side.
2:43 PM
First, there were my parents. They tried every trick in the book to make me stay:
“What did Ethan do wrong, really? This whole thing is your fault. You went behind his back and got rid of the baby. Of course,
he’s upset
“And look at Ethan–what kind of son–in–law goes out of his way to take me shopping on the weekends? Last week, when I coughed a little, he bought me medicine and made me soup. He’s practically our own son!”
“You’re not allowed to keep fighting with him! Go home and apologize right now!”
When I refused, my dad issued an ultimatum:
I you don’t move back in with your husband today and make things right, don’t bother calling me your father anymore,”
Then, there was my best friend, Sarah Cooper.
She was still gushing over the time Ethan drove cross–country to take her back to her hometown last year. Naturally, she joined the chorus of criticism:
“Fiona, you’re in the wrong here. Honestly, ever since you got married, you’ve become so petty and spoiled. It’s not a good look on you!
Even my best friend had benefited from Ethan’s generosity.
I was the only one who hadn’t.
e day we got married, I hadn’t gotten a single ounce of kindness from him.
Since the day we
He’d donate half his paycheck to animal shelters.
Or drop everything to volunteer at the community center because someone sent a message in the neighborhood group chat.
When a hurricane hit, the windows in our apartment started cracking. I was terrified, shaking and crying, but Ethan only answered his phone to say he was going to check on a female neighbor.
I begged him to stay
He rolled his eyes. “What’s there to be scared of? Stop acting like a child.”
And with that, he walked out into the storm,
Even when he slipped and broke several bones in the wind, he still dragged himself to her place, ignoring his injuries.
