Too Late to Say You Love MeChapter 1
In our eight years of marriage, Owen brought home ninety-nine mistresses, indulging in debauchery night after night.
Until the hundredth woman appeared—and for the first time, he broke tradition and took her to a banquet.
The young woman was a thrill-seeker. She dragged him to the pool for a secret rendezvous, tearing her lingerie in the process.
Owen’s gaze landed on me, cold as ice. “She’s just a naïve girl. Her undergarments tore just now—take yours off and let her borrow it for the night.”
“There’s a bathroom upstairs in the suite. Help her clean up properly. You know the scent I like. Do it the usual way.”
I stayed unusually calm and pulled out the divorce papers I’d prepared long ago.
The surrounding guests laughed mockingly.
“Again? How long do you plan on kneeling this time? Is five days enough?”
Owen casually pulled the woman into his arms and kissed her forehead, thinking this was just another empty threat—another one of my staged tantrums.
What he didn’t know was, I had already died.
The person standing in front of him now was nothing more than a walking corpse.
——
The laughter from the crowd stabbed through me like a knife.
Julia, with her wrinkled evening gown clinging to her body, she leaned coyly against Owen's chest.
“Who doesn’t know that every time Mrs. Carter talks about divorce, she ends up on her knees begging for forgiveness?”
“Didn’t she kneel for three days and nights last time? What’s it going to be now—five days?”
“If you can’t live without him, stop pretending. Playing hard to get only works if the man actually wants you.”
I looked up and met his frosty eyes.
“I’m not joking this time, Owen. I want a divorce—seriously.”
“The agreement is ready. I’ll only take what belongs to me. Not a cent more. All you have to do is sign.”
In eight years of our marriage, I’d brought up divorce at least a hundred times.
Not once did it move his heart. It was always me who caved in first—me, groveling for his forgiveness.
But this time, I meant it.
Owen frowned, clearly annoyed. “Fine. Go kneel at home for five days—then we’ll talk.”
“But before you go, take off your undergarments and give it to Julia. Wash her up from head to toe. This isn’t your first time—you know exactly what to do.”
I nodded without hesitation. Obedience had become my second nature over the past eight years.