Chapter 1
The TV in the office was playing news of Isabella’s return to the States.
His eyes never left the screen.
Not even when I handed him the
paperwork.
A mansion in Westshore–one of those ocean–view places money alone can’t buy.
But to Spencer?
It meant nothing.
Just like me.
The news ended, and he was in such a good mood.
He twirled his pen after signing and handed the documents back with a smirk.
“That’s gotta be what–your sixtieth property?”
“You’re basically a millionaire now.”
The joy in his voice wasn’t for me.
It was for her.
His golden girl, back in town.
I stood in front of him and gave a faint smile.
“That Westshore house overlooks the water. I really like it.”
I didn’t bother telling him-
That was house number one hundred.
Back when he was chasing me, Spencer got rejected 99 times.
The Internet’s Favorite Couple Was My Marriage’s Worst Nightmare
But he never gave up.
After the hundredth try, I said yes, and we got married.
His love didn’t last long.
Only until the day Isabella first came back.
It was our first wedding anniversary.
He’d planned a candlelight dinner.
I waited for him under fairy lights, heart full of love.
Instead, I got a couriered deed and a text.
“Sorry, Valentina. I messed up our anniversary. Please forgive me.”
I ignored the perfume clinging to his shirt.
And forgave him. The first time.
To be fair, I decided to give him 99 chances.
Then came the second time.
The third.
The fourth…
In five years, he left me countless times–for her.
Eventually, he started preemptively giving me properties before disappearing again.
From house one to house ninety–nine.
And each time, I forgave him.
But now?
A+
Marriage’s Worst Nightmare
Chapter 1
This is time number one hundred.
And Spencer?
You’re out of chances.
I smiled, finally at peace, watching him.
He paused, eyes flickering.
I could almost see guilt behind them.
Then he murmured, “When I get back, I’ll take you to see the fireworks.”
In the past, even the tiniest crack in his armor would make me hope.
I’d cry.
Beg.
Only to have him pry my fingers off his sleeve, one by one.
“Psycho,” he’d whisper coldly.
I’ve been that psycho ninety–nine times.
But today?
I’m done pretending.
Because hidden in that stack of papers he just signed…
Was our divorce.
Spencer.
Thirty days from now, we’ll be nothing but strangers.
12:53
