Chapter 1

When my grandma was fighting for her life, my husband, Hudson Skinner—who I'd been married to for five years—was busy sweet-talking his ninety-ninth side chick.

He ignored my calls and messages, acting like he'd already forgotten how my grandma had once saved his sorry life by giving him her kidney.

I swallowed my grief and handled everything alone. Then, holding the divorce papers, I tracked Hudson down at a bar, where he was busy partying without a care in the world.

He didn't even glance at the paperwork, just scribbled his name and waved me away like I was interrupting his night.

"Just sign my stuff for me from now on, okay? Don't ruin my good time over lame stuff like this," Hudson said, barely sparing me a look.

His buddies laughed and nudged him, teasing, "What if Chloe just slapped you with divorce papers?"

Hudson just flashed a smug grin, full of cocky confidence. "Not a chance. She's head over heels for me. Even if everyone else ditched me, she'd never walk away."

He was always bragging about how his heart belonged to just one woman, but his body couldn't be tied down. Again and again, he trampled all over my feelings.

But Hudson, this time I was leaving you for good.

*****

"Chloe, is everything sorted out over there? When are you coming over?" Ethan Lynn asked.

"I've finalized my divorce. Once the one-month waiting period is over, I'll come find you," I replied.

Ethan was sponsored by my grandma, Olivia. After studying abroad, he ended up settling down overseas.

[Vanessa's been throwing a fit over you, so I'm taking her out to clear her head.] Hudson texted.

After sending that message, Hudson went completely off the radar for another two weeks.

Social media was blowing up, with live updates tracking every sweet moment Hudson shared with Vanessa.

I watched them wrapped around each other in the hot springs, sharing deep kisses beneath the polar light, and vowing to never be apart under the sunset.

Hudson always had a way with romance. Back when he was wooing me, he took a long flight just to get my favorite cookie.

He carried them close to his chest the entire journey, and when he handed them to me in the freezing winter, it was still warm.

But just two years into our marriage, he suddenly got tired of it all.

"Chloe, I love you, but I'm just not willing to settle for only one person my whole life," he said. "Would you let me go out and have some fun? I swear my heart belongs to you. It's just my body that wants its freedom."

I cried, I shouted, but none of it stopped him from swapping out companion after companion by his side.

His latest fling was Vanessa Leslie, a college art student who'd been sticking around him for three months now.

Finally, Hudson bothered to text me, saying his stomach was acting up and asking me to make him some soothing soup.

I was always the one to reply instantly, but this time, I just ignored him, focusing on getting my work transition materials in order.

Hudson called. "Chloe, where did you park your car?"

"I'm busy. Just take a cab," I replied.

There was a time when, no matter what I was doing, just one word from him and I'd drop it all, blindly running straight to his side.

"Chloe, are you jealous again? Give me a break." Hudson let out a cold snort and hung up.

But to my surprise, when my work ended, Hudson was standing downstairs, bouquet in hand, waiting for me.

My coworkers joked about how we were still sweet even after being married for so many years. I put on a polite smile that didn't reach my eyes, but inside, I felt nothing at all.

Hudson came right over, slipped his arm around me, and opened the passenger door with a practiced, gentle gesture.

But then I saw it—a ripped black stocking tossed on the passenger seat, and on the headrest, a pillow printed with a photo of Hudson and Vanessa cozied up together.

Hudson immediately jumped in front of me, awkwardly blocking my view and hurriedly opening the back door instead.

"Come on, she's just playing around. Don't take it to heart. I'll be done with her after I get tired of the novelty in a couple of days," Hudson said.

I kept quiet, turned away, and slid into the back seat.

The air inside the car was painfully still, thick with discomfort. Hudson reached over and hit play on the stereo, trying to fill the silence.

Back when we were crazy about each other, we always synced our playlists, and whatever was playing in the car was always my jam.

Now? Just loud, thrashing rock blasting through the speakers—enough to make my head pound and my mood even worse.

Hudson, who used to hate rock music, was now bobbing his head to the beat.

He grinned at me when our eyes met.

"I've got tired of that soft stuff, you know? Rock feels way fresher and exciting," he said.

Same with music, same with women—he was addicted to whatever was new, and now he'd fallen for a bright, youthful woman.

When we got home, Hudson glanced back at me and, for once, gave me a rare compliment. "You kept the place pretty tidy while I was gone."

These past few days, I tossed out a ton of Hudson's stuff.

The photo of us that once hung in the living room had vanished, but he didn't even notice.

He walked into the bathroom with his phone, and soon enough, I could hear his muffled laughter echoing from inside.

I headed to the study, meaning to organize some paperwork, only to stumble upon Hudson's chat history flashing across the computer screen.

[Hudson, I'm in my period lately, so you'll just have to put up with it for now.]

[To comfort your poor, wounded heart, here's a little treat for you.]

Along came a flood of photos: Vanessa, flaunting one skimpy lingerie after another—each more daring and exposed than the last.

[The sailor outfit is pretty cute. Why not put that on for me next time?] Hudson messaged, barely hiding his excitement.

I stared at Hudson's comments on every picture. Disgust churned in my stomach.

No wonder he dragged himself back home—his precious plaything was in her period.

Vanessa then sent him a video call, her syrupy voice coming right through the bathroom door and hitting me square in my ears.

"Hudson, does this look good? Do you like this pose?" she cooed.

"Baby, you're incredible. Switch it up." Hudson's tone was all heat.

Listening to Hudson's unfiltered moans, I had to fight the urge to throw up.

After what felt like forever, Hudson finally strolled out with a look of utter contentment on his face—just in time to catch me heading to the guest room, pillow in hand.