She Forgave the Crush Who Ruined Her Mom, I Divorced Chapter 01

She Forgave the Crush Who Ruined Her Mom, I Divorced Chapter 01 The Anniversary Dinner’s Shattered Facade
We’d gathered for our wedding anniversary feast when someone tossed out a question: what’s the wildest, most reckless thing each of us had ever done?
It was my wife’s turn to speak, but before she could utter a single word, her longtime bitter rival burst through the private room doors with a group of his cronies and trashed the entire space.
He dug one hand roughly into her chest and bared his teeth in a vicious taunt straight at me.
“The lettering inked on her chest? That’s my name, carved right there.”
All the color drained from my face in an instant.
My wife had always sworn she was obsessive about personal space and hated being touched. She wouldn’t let me lay a single finger on her body. Yet now, with him gripping such an intimate, sensitive spot, she didn’t pull away, not even an inch.
Dead silence crashed over every person at the table; only his snickering cut through the hush.
“She begged me to tattoo that mark the night right before you tied the knot!” He preened, oozing smug satisfaction.
“I only agreed after she struck a deal: she wouldn’t let you touch her at all until the scar on my inner thigh fully healed.”
“Looks like she kept every last word of that promise.”
I twisted my head to glance at Sloane. I’d only caught her staring at him, soft, adoring fondness etched across her features.
A crushing, weary weight settled heavily in my chest the second I saw that look. I roughly shrugged her hand off my thigh where it had been resting.
…
Sloane gently wrapped her fingers around his wrist, still pressed against her chest, and eased his grasp away from her skin.
“Zach, you know Elias can’t brush off teasing like this. He’ll take every word you say as the unvarnished truth.”
The suffocating, awkward tension in the room only lightened once Zach finally pulled his hand back. Sloane’s closest best friend rushed in to smooth over the mess between everyone.
“Come on, Zach, you owe Elias an apology. If Sloane gets the wrong end of this, she’ll never let you live it down.”
Zach let out a sharp, mocking scoff.
“Why am I the one who has to beg for forgiveness?”
“He can’t handle a little joke, and that’s somehow my fault? Does a guy this thin-skinned even deserve someone like Sloane?”
The room went rigid, every guest holding their breath again. Sloane patted my forearm lightly, her tone syrupy, placating.
“It’s our anniversary, honey. Don’t let this ruin the night, alright? Zach crossed a line with what he said, and I’ll set him straight later.”
Later? I bit back a bitter, hollow laugh at that word.
The last time I’d gotten upset over something Zach did, he’d snuck a dead rodent into the birthday cake Sloane had gifted me. I wound up with severe food poisoning and spent an entire week hooked up to monitors in critical care.
Sloane swore she’d make him pay dearly for it, but while I was still stuck in the hospital ward, I stumbled across her social feed—photos of her and Zach lounging together on a luxury yacht, soaking up the sunshine on a getaway.
Even before that, on Valentine’s Day, Zach had marched straight into the private manor Sloane’d purchased for us and moved all his belongings in uninvited. I’d been forced to book a crummy hotel room for the whole holiday while they stayed in our estate.
How had I been so blind all these years?
Every single time Sloane claimed she’d sort Zach out for hurting me, she was quietly spoiling him and making amends for any minor inconvenience I’d caused him behind closed doors.
Meanwhile, I was her legal husband, the one who bore every hurt and slight from his antics, never once receiving a shred of comfort or consideration from her.
I still remembered the woman Sloane used to be—the girl who’d run Zach’s whole fortune into the ground just because he’d accidentally brushed a single strand of my hair out of place. That version of her was long gone, vanished without a trace.
I curled my hands into fists so tight my nails dug into my palms, drawing thin streaks of blood.
Sloane misread my rigid posture as me calming down, and waved a server over to clear the wrecked tabletop. Every dish laid out across the cloth was Zach’s absolute favorite, cooked exactly to his taste.
Zach let out a haughty huff.
“That makes sense.”
“Let’s pick back up where we left off. Weren’t we going around talking about the craziest stunts we’ve pulled?”
“Whose turn is it next?”
Not a single person dared make a sound. My voice came out flat, unwavering, cutting through the heavy quiet.
“It’s mine.”
The other guests all relaxed, relieved the ugly confrontation had fizzled out—until I pushed my chair back and stepped straight over to Zach. I drove a hard, solid fist into his jaw, then lifted my leg and landed a brutal kick square between his legs.
He doubled over instantly, hands clamped tight between his thighs, screaming in blinding agony.
“Elias! What the hell are you doing?!”
Sloane lunged forward to grab my arm, trying to hold me back, but I shoved her off with all my strength. I paid her no mind at all, letting a quiet, cold smirk tug at my lips as I locked eyes with Zach’s blazing, furious stare.
“That’s the wildest, craziest thing I’ve done tonight.”
I lifted my phone, hit record, and captured every second of his humiliated, crumpled state before hitting post on my social feed for everyone we knew to see.