My Husband Fell In Love With Me After The Divorce

I received a divorce text message.

The sender was my husband, whom I had never met despite being married for a year through an arrangement.

He said he had been in love with a girl for ten years and wanted to divorce me to pursue her.

I agreed and casually asked for twenty million dollars as a settlement.

Later, I met a man who blushed because of a single glance from me.

He seemed to fall for me at first sight and asked for my contact information.

I told him I had a husband and was in the process of getting divorced.

He clenched his teeth in anger, swearing to make my jerk husband pay.

When I appeared before him in divorce court, his face turned pale instantly.

...

That afternoon, I was analyzing the latest experimental data when my phone buzzed.

An unfamiliar number sent a brief message. "Hello, this is Simon Pierce. We need to talk."

I paused my lab notes, staring at the name that existed only on my marriage certificate.

I replied, "What's this about?"

His response came quickly. "I want a divorce."

Plain and direct.

A year had passed, and I had nearly forgotten I had a husband.

I stared at the message for a long time.

For the first time in a year, this name appeared to me as a living person.

I set the phone down and resumed analyzing data.

The results were as expected, nothing surprising.

Before I could reply, a second message followed. "I've loved a girl for ten years. To pursue her honestly, I need to end this arranged marriage. Name any compensation you want."

I set down the test tube and leaned back in my chair.

My thoughts drifted back to a year ago.

The man who called himself my father, Richard Vance, had proposed this marriage with the same cold, businesslike tone. "The Vance Group needs to merge interests with the Pierce Group."

His voice carried sharp calculation. "Simon Pierce is rumored to avoid women. My other daughters wouldn't take the risk. But you're different. You're clean, no scandals."

The father I had never met since birth spoke only in transactions.

My mother, before she passed, warned me he was no good and told me never to contact him.

But for my research funding, I agreed, also hoping to secretly investigate and seek justice for her.

Later, I met Simon's mother, the elegant and sharp Victoria Pierce.

"Simon's past makes him wary of women who approach him deliberately," she said, explaining the need for the marriage.

When she saw the classical piano sheet music on my desk and asked about my high school, I answered, "Lincoln Arts Academy."

Her eyes lit up instantly. "She's the one. The wedding will happen next week. The sooner, the better," she decided.

On the wedding day, the groom was absent, citing "urgent overseas business."

Victoria signed all the documents on his behalf, and my name changed from Ava Collins to Lila Vance.

"Simon is a simple boy," she said, holding my hand. "If anything comes up, come straight to me."

For a year, this "simple" husband never showed up.

I focused on my research without guilt, and he was just a name on my bank statements.

Now, he wanted a divorce.

I glanced at the funding warning notice on the lab wall, then at the neural regeneration factor data flickering on my screen.

The costs for phase two of the experiment far exceeded projections.

Since this marriage was a transaction, the divorce should be too.

I typed a single line on my phone. "Fine. I need twenty million dollars."

His reply came almost instantly. "Deal."

I barely exhaled when my phone buzzed frantically.

The caller ID showed a name I rarely contacted-Richard Vance.

As soon as I answered, Richard's fake charm shattered, his roar nearly piercing my eardrum. "You useless thing! Kicked out after just one year of marriage! Has the Pierce family already notified you?"

Before I could respond, his cold, venomous voice delivered my sentence.

His words grew sharper. "You and your dead mother are both worthless!"

At the mention of my mother, my fingers tightened.

"I'm warning you, from today, the Vance family won't give you a single cent! You've disgraced us!" The call ended abruptly.

I stared at the darkened phone screen.

It buzzed again with a bank notification. My account was frozen.

Perfect.

On one side, a vague promise of twenty million. On the other, a completely cut-off lifeline.

Now I had to bet that this husband, eager to chase his dream girl, would keep his word.

I reopened my lab notes and continued marking data.

For this experiment's goal, I could strike a deal with anyone.

My phone buzzed again. "Friday, ten a.m., Mendona Civil Court. The money will be transferred after the divorce is finalized."

I read the message, and a faint smile curved my lips.

I typed a reply and sent it. "Got it. Good luck with your girl."