The Divorce I Never Knew

My wife, Catalina, is a billionaire CEO. To me, she's an angel. Three years ago, her stalker, Dixon Bright, shattered my hand with a hammer, ending my career as an architect. Catalina nursed me back from the brink, her love the only thing holding me together.

On our fifth anniversary, I went to the DMV. The clerk looked at me strangely. "Sir, our records show you were divorced three years ago. On October 12th."

The same day I was attacked.

The record also showed who Catalina married that very day: Dixon Bright.

My world tilted. Her tender care-feeding me, dressing me, encouraging me to draw with my left hand-was it all a lie? I found their secret house, a glass mansion she called an "investment." Inside, she wasn't punishing him. She was kissing him.

I pressed my ear to the glass and heard the words that destroyed me.

"It was your idea to cripple him," she cooed to Dixon, stroking his hair. "It was the only way to make sure he'd never leave me. You did a good thing, Dixon. You earned your reward. You earned me."

My loving wife hadn't just betrayed me. She had ordered my destruction to turn me into a pet she could keep in a cage.

My phone buzzed. A text from Catalina. "Happy anniversary, my love. Can't wait to celebrate tonight. <3"

She thinks I'm her broken treasure, safe in her grasp. She has no idea I just saw the warden with the key. She thinks she broke me.

But tonight, my escape begins.

Chapter 1

Today was my fifth wedding anniversary. I went to the DMV to update the address on my driver' s license. A simple task, something to do while my wife, Catalina, planned our evening.

The clerk, a woman with tired eyes, tapped at her keyboard.

"Eleazar Miller?"

"Yes, that' s me."

She looked at her screen, then back at me. A small frown formed on her lips. "Sir, I need you to confirm some information."

"Okay."

"Your marital status is listed here as divorced."

The air left my lungs. The busy noise of the DMV faded into a dull hum. "I' m sorry, what? That' s a mistake. I' m married."

The clerk didn' t look up. "The system shows your divorce was finalized on October 12th, three years ago."

My heart started to pound against my ribs. "Three years ago? Who... who did I divorce?"

She read from the screen in a flat voice. "Catalina Carter."

My own wife' s name. It felt like a punch to the gut. "And... does it say if she remarried?"

The clerk' s fingers tapped a few more times. "Yes. Same day. She married a Mr. Dixon Bright."

Dixon Bright.

The name was a scar. A physical one. I instinctively looked down at my right hand, the one that used to hold a pencil and sketch entire worlds. Now, it was a useless, twisted claw.

Dixon Bright was Catalina' s obsessed stalker. Three years ago, on October 12th, he cornered me in a parking garage. He said Catalina would never love me, that I was just a temporary distraction. Then he took a hammer to my hand, shattering the bones, my career, my entire life.

I remembered Catalina' s fury afterward. She had screamed, cried, promised to make him pay. She had held me, telling me she would take care of me forever. She said she loved me more than anything.

How could she marry the man who did that to me? How could she do it on the very same day?

My mind spun. It didn' t make sense. The last three years... Catalina had been my rock. She nursed me, fed me, dressed me. When I fell into a deep depression, unable to work, she built a state-of-the-art studio in our home, encouraging me to learn to draw with my left hand. She was my angel, my savior.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. A text from Catalina.

"Happy anniversary, my love. Can' t wait to celebrate with you tonight. I have a surprise for you. <3"

The message was a cruel joke. The words swam before my eyes. All her care, her devotion... was it all a lie?

She was a tech CEO, a billionaire from an old New York family. To the world, she was cold and ruthless. To me, she was the warmest person alive. She never looked at anyone else the way she looked at me. She told me I was her beautiful, fragile treasure.

A treasure she kept in a cage.

A cold dread seeped into my bones. The DMV papers in my hand felt like a death certificate. I had to know. I had to see it for myself.

The divorce record listed Dixon Bright' s address. It was a secluded property in the hills, not far from our home. A place she told me she bought as an investment.

I drove there, my mind a blank, hollow space. The house was a modern glass box, just like the ones I used to design. It was her style. Our style.

I parked down the road and walked up the long driveway. The lights were on. I crept toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, my heart hammering in my chest.

I heard a muffled sound from inside. A cry. It sounded like someone was in pain.

Then I saw them.

Catalina was standing over a man kneeling on the floor. It was Dixon. He was crying, but she was holding a riding crop, the kind she kept in our bedroom. She told me it was just for show.

I thought she was punishing him. Maybe this was her twisted justice.

But then she lowered the crop and knelt, lifting his chin. She wasn't angry. Her expression was one of fondness, of intimacy. She kissed him, a long, deep kiss that made my stomach turn.

"You' re such a bad boy," she whispered, her voice carrying through the glass. "Making me worry like that."

Dixon looked up at her, his eyes full of adoration. "I' m sorry, Cat. I just miss you so much when you' re with him."

On the table next to them was a bottle of wine. It was a rare vintage, one I had bought for Catalina for our first anniversary. It was my favorite. Our favorite. She was sharing it with him.

A wave of nausea washed over me. The world tilted on its axis. My right hand, the dead one, throbbed with a phantom pain that was so real, I almost screamed.

Then I heard the words that shattered what was left of my world.

"Don' t worry about Eleazar," Catalina said, stroking Dixon' s hair. "He' s so broken now. He needs me. He' d be lost without me."

She smiled, a cold, predatory smile I had never seen before. "Besides, it was your idea to cripple him. It was the only way to make sure he' d never leave me for some job in Europe. You did a good thing, Dixon."

She kissed him again. "You earned your reward. You earned me."

Dixon' s face lit up with a sick kind of pride. "So you' re not angry that I hurt him?"

"Angry?" She laughed, a sound that was no longer beautiful but monstrous. "Of course not. I love him, which is why I have to keep him. Perfectly, beautifully broken. Right where he belongs."

They were celebrating. Not my anniversary. Theirs.

I stumbled back from the window, my breath catching in my throat. I ran, not knowing where I was going, just needing to get away. The cold night air burned my lungs.

My phone buzzed again. Another text from Catalina.

"Where are you, honey? I' m waiting at home."

Home. The word was meaningless now. The woman I loved, the woman who I thought loved me, had orchestrated my ruin. She hadn' t just betrayed me. She had destroyed me, piece by piece, and then lovingly reassembled me into a pet she could keep on a leash.

Her love wasn't a comfort. It was a prison. And I had just seen the warden with the key.

I stopped running, gasping for air. The pain in my chest was so immense, I thought I was dying. But underneath the pain, a new feeling began to crystalize. A cold, hard resolve.

She thought she had broken me. She was wrong.

This wasn' t the end. It was the beginning. I would escape her. I would rebuild my life. And one day, I would make her see the man she tried to destroy.