Divorcing the Billionaire Who Would Destroy Me

Behind the wardrobe in the old house was a magical door.

I stepped through it, and I saw myself thirty years from now.

Both legs paralyzed, my eyes fixed on a withered orchid on the windowsill.

"How absurd. This is the marriage I begged so hard to keep."

"If the woman I was thirty years ago could hear this, remember, divorce Brent Gilbert if it kills you."

Trembling faintly, I came back to my own world.

A wave of desolation rose in my chest.

Once I was home, I was a different person.

I no longer asked where Brent had spent his nights away from home.