Love, Broken, and Found

I married the same man seven times.

He had divorced me seven times for his first love, just so he could spend vacations with her freely, and so she wouldn't have to deal with rumors or gossip.

The first time we divorced, I tried to stop him by hurting myself. I ended up in the hospital, but he didn't even come to see me.

The second time, I lowered myself to apply as his assistant at his company, just so I could see him more.

By the sixth divorce, I had already learned to pack my things quietly and leave our apartment without a fuss.

My meltdowns, my constant giving in, and my numb compromises only led to one thing: him coming back to marry me on schedule, and repeating the same old games.

Until now.

When I heard that his first love was returning to the country, I handed him the divorce papers first.

As usual, he made a plan to remarry me later, but this time, he had no idea that I was leaving for good.

Chapter 1

"Larissa's back. Let's get a divorce."

I handed Jeff West the divorce papers I had already signed, my face calm and unreadable.

For a second, his expression froze, but he quickly recovered. He then signed his name on the papers with practiced ease.

It was the first time I had offered him the papers instead of the other way around.

Still, just like the last six times, he said casually, "Once she leaves in a month, I'll remarry you."

In the past, that line would never have been enough to curb my insecurity. I would make him swear an oath or sign a contract—anything to feel safe.

This time, I felt nothing. I had no desire to respond at all.

"Helen, are you even listening to me?"

Jeff frowned, clearly annoyed by my silence.

I just nodded. "Yeah."

But my hands kept moving, folding clothes and packing them neatly into boxes.

When Jeff said he would remarry me, he always meant it. Everyone in the business knew him as a man who kept his word.

We didn't seem like a real couple anyway.

We were like two business partners with a contract that needed renewal, signing two papers every once in a while—one for marriage, and the other for divorce.

By now, I had signed 13 papers.

I remembered him saying at our wedding that he would never betray me during our marriage.

And he hadn't.

After the divorce, he was free to be with anyone he wanted.

The only cost was that I became the kind of person everyone in the social circle knew could be summoned or dismissed at his whim.

But today, my calmness seemed to throw him off.

He could vividly remember how I had behaved during our divorce in the past. I had been hysterical, even self-destructive.

Now, he watched me pack efficiently, faster than ever, and he looked a little unsettled.

"Maybe this time, I should move out instead—"

I slammed the large suitcase shut with a thunk, cutting him off.

"I already told my friend I'd stay at her place for a few days."

Jeff seemed to have thought of something, and his face darkened even further.

"You're not planning to sneak into my office again, are you? Pretending to be...