He Kept Postponing Our Marriage for Her Crises… So I Ended It Myself Chapter 01
The third time we tried to hold a wedding reception, Julian Sterling’s childhood sweetheart filed for divorce. Again.
Same story as the last two times. He came to me with that look on his face, brow drawn, voice measured, and tried to talk me out of it.
“Audrey, let’s just push it back. You don’t want our anniversary to fall on the same day Chloe’s divorce is finalized.”
“Think about it. Every year, what are we supposed to do? Celebrate or feel guilty?”
He always made it sound so reasonable.
But this time, I didn’t give in.
I told my brother Arthur Hayes to have his men block the doors. We forced Julian to stay for the ceremony.
What I didn’t expect was what came after. Because Julian never showed up, Chloe bashed her head against the wall. The damage was severe enough to leave her with cognitive damage.
He vanished for a full week. When he finally came back, his neck and collar were covered in marks that needed no explanation.
The first thing he did when he walked through the door was look me dead in the face.
“You know what you did? That was attempted murder.”
“I’m not pressing charges, but Chloe is moving in tomorrow.”
“You’re going to feed her, bathe her, dress her, take her to every single rehab session. You’re going to wait on her hand and foot for the rest of your life. That’s the only way you even begin to make up for what you did.”
I laughed.
“No need.”
“Sign the divorce papers. I’ll turn myself in today.”
…
That stopped him cold. He hadn’t expected me to choose prison over a lifetime of serving Chloe.
He laughed under his breath. “Divorce?”
“You practically crawled into my bed to lock down the Sterling name. And now you’re telling me you’d walk away from all of it?”
Something in my chest tightened.
But when I spoke, my voice came out steadier than I expected.
“I meant what I said. After the divorce is final, I’ll turn myself in.”
He was so sure I’d tried to kill her, wasn’t he?
Fine. If I was guilty, the law could sort it out.
“Fine.” He lit a cigarette and took his time. “There’s a thirty-day waiting period for the paperwork.”
“Until then, you’re staying right here with Chloe.”
“You’ll wait on her. You’ll keep her comfortable. When she’s happy, you smile. When she cries, you get down on your knees and make it stop.”
“And if you try to run…”
He ground out the cigarette and smiled, the kind of smile that didn’t reach anywhere warm. “Then a month will be the least of your problems.”
He turned to leave.
“Julian!”
I stopped him.
My eyes caught the marks on his neck again, and this time I couldn’t keep my voice from breaking.
“The first time, she said the Brooks family was mistreating her and she wanted out. You dropped everything to go to her. Our wedding was put on hold.”
“The second time, she filed again. You told me she was falling apart and needed you. I swallowed it.”
“This is the third time! Every single time, it lands right on top of our wedding. You honestly believe that’s a coincidence?”
He turned around, his lip curling into a smirk. “So what?”
I froze.
“What if it is?” He shrugged like it was nothing. “And even if she did it on purpose, so what? She’s jealous. That’s just who she is.”
My nails bit into my palms. My voice shook.
“This isn’t fair.”
My whole life, I gave up everything for her.
Why did my own wedding have to come second to her every single time?
“Fair?” He almost laughed. “That’s not how life works.”
“Chloe doesn’t have anyone else. The tantrums, the timing, all of it. She does it because she’s terrified of losing me.”
“And what about me?” I stared at him. “What does that make me?”
Julian looked at me, really looked, for a few long seconds.
Those gorgeous eyes held nothing but flat, cold indifference.
“You’re my wife. You’re Mrs. Sterling. Isn’t that enough?”
I smiled, and it felt like ash on my tongue.
His wife. Mrs. Sterling. That was all I’d ever be.
Every ounce of tenderness he had, the patience, the softness, the willingness to show up, he’d poured it all into someone who wasn’t me.
He’d been the one who promised me that wedding.
But through the whole ceremony, he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.
Even sliding the ring on my finger, he was just going through the motions.
The second the ceremony ended, his phone rang. He picked up, turned around, and walked out of the hotel without a word.
Gone. Just like that.
For seven days, he didn’t pick up a single call or answer a single text.
The tabloid headlines were savage.
[Crawford family’s adopted daughter plays every card to land her man, only to get upstaged by his first love on their wedding day. Again.]
[Three weddings, three divorces: groom ditches bride every time his childhood sweetheart calls]
When I finally got through to him, I kept my voice low and begged.
“Just come home. Please. We can talk about everything when you’re here.”
I’d been trying to find the right moment to tell him I was pregnant. That was the whole reason I’d pushed so hard to get this wedding done before the baby came.
But before I could get the words out, he cut me off. “Are you seriously still at this? I’m here cleaning up your mess.”
Then the line went dead. He’d shut his phone off.
Something in me just gave out.
I stopped looking at him.
“You said she’s lost her mind and she needs you. I’m giving you the divorce. What more do you want from me?”
Julian’s expression went dark.
He grabbed my wrist. “You don’t get to talk about her like that.”
“Chloe almost died because of you, because you had to have me.”
“And now you’ve turned her into this.”
“And you? You’re standing right here, not a scratch on you, still running your mouth.”
His eyes cut sideways to me.
“Remember this. Every single thing she suffers, I’m taking out on you.”
He dragged me out of the house and shoved me into the back seat of his car.
Before long, the car stopped in front of a villa.
I stared. This was supposed to be our home.
Three years ago, we’d rushed the marriage license. Julian’s grandfather was dying, and the family wanted him to see his grandson settled before the end. We always said we’d move in here after the real wedding.
Years later, the house still looked untouched. And here I was, walking into it like a prisoner.
Julian shoved me forward.
I stumbled through the doorway. A woman sat on the living room sofa.
She was clutching a rag doll. The second she saw Julian, her whole face lit up like a child’s. “Julian! Hug me!”
He walked over, crouched down, and pulled her in.
His voice dropped to something impossibly soft. “Hey, sweetheart. I’m right here.”
Then Chloe’s eyes landed on me. The smile disappeared.
She snatched a bowl off the coffee table and hurled it at me.
It hit my shoulder, porridge splashed down my front, and ceramic shattered across the floor.
“Mean! She’s mean!”
Chloe screamed. “Chloe is a princess! Make the mean lady kneel!”
Julian steadied her, then looked at me.
“Get on your knees. Clean it up.”
I stared at him, this man I’d loved for seven years, and for a second, the ground dropped out from under me.
He used to refuse to let anyone make me feel small.
And now he wanted me on my knees?
“Julian, if it had been me? If I was the one who lost my mind, would you be standing over her right now, demanding she spend the rest of her life taking care of me?”
