Too Late To Be My Husband Again Novel by ElaraThorne _ Novel




Too Late To Be My Husband Again Chapter 01

At midnight on New Year’s Eve, right when the bells started ringing, I got my first “gift” of the year.
A photo.
My husband. In bed with another woman.
Ten minutes ago, he was outside with our daughter, holding her hand while she laughed and set off fireworks. Ten minutes later, he was already sleeping with someone else.
At the exact same time, the internet blew up.
“Alexander Sterling — heir to the Sterling Group — caught in secret NYE affair with rising actress.”
It spread everywhere in seconds.
And inside the Sterling mansion, every single person at the banquet turned to look at me.
Waiting.
Watching.
Like they were all just dying to see me lose it.
“Mrs. Sterling…” my assistant rushed over, clearly nervous. “Do we follow the usual plan? Push the story harder and make it trend even more?”
I didn’t even blink.
“No. Contact PR. Shut it down.”
She froze.
The whole room went quiet for a second… then exploded into whispers.
“Wait—what did she just say?”
“Suppress it? Seriously?”
“Didn’t she used to make a huge scene every time, just to embarrass him?”
“Yeah, remember when she smashed his sports car with a hammer after he got caught with a model?”
“And that Valentine’s Day… she burned down the yacht before the party even ended.”
“Every time she goes crazy, and every time he keeps cheating anyway. Maybe she finally figured it out—acting insane won’t keep a man.”
“So now she’s playing the calm, classy wife?”
They weren’t even trying to keep their voices down.
I heard everything.
I just… didn’t care anymore.
I kept the party going like nothing happened. Smiling, talking, handling everything the way a perfect hostess should.
Everyone thought I’d changed my strategy.
That I’d finally learned how to “keep a man.”
But the truth?
I was just tired.
Two years of this… will do that to you.
When the banquet ended, I carried my daughter back to her room. She’d passed out from playing too hard, her little face still flushed and happy. I tucked her in, kissed her forehead, and quietly left.
Then I went upstairs.
To the study.
I knocked once and walked in. My mother-in-law was sitting on the couch, pressing her temples like she had a headache.
“Mom,” I said softly.
She looked up, guilt written all over her face.
“Victoria… I failed you. I’ll call that bastard right now.”
She dialed immediately and put it on speaker.
“Alexander! Where the hell are you? It’s New Year’s Eve. Get your ass home. Now.”
There was noise on the other end. Loud music. A woman laughing.
His voice came through, lazy and completely unconcerned.
“Mom, I’m busy. I’ll come back tomorrow.”
“It’s your daughter’s birthday. You promised to cut the cake with her.”
He didn’t even pause.
“Oh, and tell Victoria she handled things well today. Very mature. She’s finally acting like a proper Mrs. Sterling. Tell her to keep it up.”
“Alright, I’m hanging up.”
The line went dead.
My mother-in-law slammed the phone down, shaking with anger.
“That bastard!”
I smiled.
Calm. Gentle. Like none of it mattered.
“Mom, I didn’t come here to ask for justice.”
She stopped.
I looked at her and spoke quietly.
“Five years ago, when my mom was dying from liver failure… you gave her half your liver.”
“I’ll never forget that.”
“So when you asked me to marry him… to help him settle down… I agreed.”
“I did it. I really did.”
“But the moment our daughter turned one… he went right back to who he was.”
For two years, I fought like hell.
I screamed. I broke things. I humiliated myself over and over again.
She protected me every time.
And still… I couldn’t keep him.
She sighed, holding my hand tightly.
“My child… I used that favor to tie you down back then. Tell me what you want. Anything. I’ll give it to you.”
I reached into my bag and took out a document.
Then I slid it across the table.
“I want a divorce.”
“And I want custody of my daughter.”
She went quiet.
For a long time.
Then she nodded.
“…Alright. I’ll handle it. Just stay here for two more weeks.”
I nodded, smiled, and turned to leave.
My hand was already on the doorknob when her voice came from behind me.
Soft. Almost like she was talking to herself.
“Back then… he was the one who fell for you first. He begged me to let him marry you…”
I stopped.
Just for a second.
Because she wasn’t wrong.
He did love me once.
The famous playboy… gave up every woman for me. Learned how to be loyal. Learned how to stay.
When he proposed, he pushed all his assets in front of me and said—
“Everything I have is yours. And I’m yours too.”
When I was in labor with our daughter, he stood outside the delivery room, eyes red, praying like his life depended on it. He even said he’d trade half his life just to keep me safe.
He gave me everything.
Every exception.
Every privilege.
Made the whole world believe in our love story.
But a man’s heart?
That’s the easiest thing to change.
I went downstairs.
My phone lit up.
A bank transfer from him.
A huge amount.
With a message.
“They say you’ve changed. Finally learned how to behave?”
“Is that true? Feels weird.”
Then another message.
“I’m at The Abyss. The club you got shut down last month? It just reopened.”
“Room V888.”
“Come over.”
“And bring me a condom.”

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