My Husband’s Ex Lived in My House for Three Years Chapter 05
And all at once, I realized Lucas was the same way.
Two people got married, and the whole time his heart stayed with Hannah.
No matter how good I was to him, he still belonged to her.
My voice went calm. “Lucas, we’re completely finished.”
Lucas’s frown cut deeper.
“What are you talking about? Haven’t you made enough of a scene these past days? I already told you, I bought you a new villa, a new car, a new cat.”
A newly bought cat, no matter how expensive the Ragdoll or how fine its markings, could never be Duffy.
I didn’t answer. I bent down and gathered Duffy up, his weightless body wrapped in the towel.
“Where are you going?” Lucas asked.
“Home.”
“People have been talking about our marriage falling apart this whole time. You can’t keep staying at your father’s house.”
I looked at him one last time. “Don’t worry. It won’t be for much longer.”
Lucas went blank. “What do you mean?”
I didn’t answer. I carried Duffy to the car.
The second I shut the door, Hannah’s tearful voice drifted in from outside.
“Lucas, did she misunderstand me again…”
The car pulled out of Claude Villa. My phone rang. It was James.
“Ms. Langley, should we announce the divorce now?”
I looked down at the cat in my arms and ran my hand lightly over his dry fur.
“Yes. Go ahead.”
The moment the call ended, Langley Group released its statement.
Caroline and Lucas had reached a divorce settlement and parted on peaceful terms.
It was one line of text, gone in a second.
Three years of marriage, and it was finally settled.
Then my phone started buzzing violently.
I switched it to silent, and the screen kept flashing like mad, but I didn’t glance at it again.
I buried Duffy under the magnolia tree in the garden of my own house.
I dug the hole with my own hands, wrapped Duffy in his favorite blue blanket, and set him gently inside.
My hands shook as I shoveled the dirt over him one load at a time, but I didn’t cry.
I’d promised myself I would allow exactly thirty minutes of grief.
That evening I took a bath, and the hot water rose over my shoulders.
I sank my face under, opened my eyes beneath the surface, and watched the ceiling light shatter across the water.
Thirty minutes, not a minute more and not a minute less.
I dried my hair, walked out, and picked the phone back up.
Along with the divorce statement, the Langley Group site had posted a set of images.
The deed to Claude Villa, the registrations for all three cars, the purchase receipts for the jewelry I’d worn for three years, even a screenshot of Duffy’s microchip registration.
Every last one of them bore the same name. Hannah.
The comments had already exploded.
[So Lucas made his real wife live in his first love’s house for three whole years?]
[Wow. The marital home, the cars, and even the cat belong to the mistress. What exactly was the wife getting out of this?]
[A Langley daughter, and for what? For a man whose heart was somewhere else, who couldn’t even give her a real home?]
[What Lucas pulled here is grosser than plain cheating. He treated her like a complete fool.]
[No wonder the Langley family fired off a divorce statement. That’s a revenge.]
I scrolled through them one by one without much of an expression.
The internet’s sense of justice showed up fast and scattered just as fast, and I didn’t need anyone’s pity.