Once His Now My Own Novel by SHAN

Stella’s POV

The moment I declared my intention to divorce Ethan, a wave of shock swept across the room. Faces turned toward me, eyes wide with disbelief, as if waiting for me to break down and retract my words, begging for forgiveness. But not this time.

Ethan’s grip tightened around my wrist, his expression a mix of bitterness and desperation. “Come home with me,” he muttered through clenched teeth, pulling me toward the restaurant door.

His grip was strong, and I couldn’t break free.

I tried to yank my arm free, but his hold was relentless. Just as I was about to lose my balance, Jacob stepped between us, his voice calm but firm. “Mr. Lewis, Stella has made her choice. Respect her wishes.”

Ethan’s eyes darkened, his patience snapping. The restaurant buzzed with tension as the two men squared off. A sudden punch from Jacob caught Ethan off guard, splitting his lip. Blood trickled down, but Ethan retaliated, kicking Jacob in the stomach. I rushed to help Jacob, my heart pounding, but we didn’t stop to exchange words. With barely a glance back, I led Jacob out of the restaurant.

It was 2 a.m. by the time I returned home, emotionally drained and dreading whatever scene awaited me. Unsurprisingly, Lily was there, tending to Ethan‘ s injuries.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

As soon as he saw me, he immediately pushed her away and walked toward me, his eyes bloodshot. “Stella, I thought you weren’t coming back.”

Not planning to talk to him, I paid him no attention and straightly headed to the bedroom. I had only come back to retrieve my initial design drafts.

Descending back to the living room with my notebook, Lily, with a pitiful expression, said, “Stella, this is all my fault. Please, don’t leave him because of me.”

Her words were a carefully constructed trap, designed to make her seem like the innocent victim. But I wasn‘ t falling for it. When she reached out, trying to take my notebook from my hands, I stepped aside. Yet, she stumbled dramatically, crashing into the coffee table with a pained gasp. Blood began to pool from her hand where it struck the edge, and she wailed, “Stella, I was only trying to help. Why are you being so cruel?”

I sighed inwardly, already tired of her antics. Ethan, however, seemed rattled as he suddenly shouted, “Enough! Lily, leave!”

His voice was sharp, and for the first time, I saw him dismiss her in my presence.

She froze, wide–eyed, before crumbling onto the floor, playing her final card. “Ethan, the bleeding… it won’t stop.”

His panic was immediate, and he looked at me, pleading. “Stella, she has hemophilia. We need to-”

The pounding in my head intensified as their voices overlapped in a cacophony of complaints. I handed him the car keys and urged them in my flat voice, “Then go. Take her to the hospital.”

Ethan blinked, momentarily stunned by my calmness. “Thank you,” he whispered, before rushing out with Lily in his arms, leaving the door ajar in his haste.

Once the house was finally silent, I gathered my things, stuffing clothes and my designs into my suitcase. I left the divorce court summons on the coffee table where Ethan couldn’t miss it and walked out without looking back.

A week passed before Ethan even realized I was gone. When he finally did, his calls came in a barrage–dozens of different numbers, all blocked within seconds. Eventually, changed my number, knowing it was only a matter of time before he called me again with a different number.

The next morning, as I stepped outside, there he was, leaning against his car, disheveled and unshaven, with desperation etched into every line of his face. “Stella,” he rasped, his voice breaking. “How could you ignore me like this?”

His words echoed painfully familiar, reminding me of the time I had once begged him in the same way, only to be met with cold. indifference. Now, the tables had turned.

I walked past him without a word, sliding into the passenger seat of my friend’s car. But Ethan wasn’t done. He rushed to the window, thrusting a lunchbox toward me. “Stella, I made breakfast for you. You need to eat or your stomach will ache again.”

I got that condition by letting myself go hungry while waiting for him to come home for years. But the moment I made the decision to leave him, something shifted. I began to reclaim my life–starting with my own well–being. And just yesterday, during my routine check–up, the doctor even praised me for how much my condition had improved.

Through the car window, I glanced at the pink ribbon tied around the handle of the lunchbox and chuckled lightly, “I’ve already eaten.”

Noticing my gaze, Ethan hastily tore off the ribbon and nervously explained, his eyes pleading, “Stella, it’s not what you think! Lily… she just tied it to distinguish her food at the office. Please believe me.”

I gave a noncommittal “oh” and didn’t pay it much mind.

But Ethan, with tears in his eyes, looked at me and said, “Stella, there really is nothing between me and Lily-”

“Ethan,” I interrupted, my voice cold. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

He stared at me, bewildered. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t care what’s going on between you and Lily. Or anyone else. I don’t care about you anymore.”

His face twisted with pain, but he wasn’t ready to give up. “Please, -Stella, give me another chance. Don’t be with Jacob. Just one more chance. I’ll make things right, I swear-”

I had no patience for his delusions. “Ethan, you need help. Go see a doctor.”

I rolled up the window as his face crumpled. Behind me, I heard the lunchbox clatter to the ground, its contents spilling everywhere. The heart–shaped eggs he had made, now broken and scattered on the pavement, looked as pathetic as I had felt six months ago, when he threw my homemade breakfast into the trash while Lily sat beside him, feeding him grapes like royalty.

The next time I saw Ethan was at the final selection for the design project competition.