Farewell to My Ex-HusbandChapter 1
Simon Wilson's girlfriend, who was his forever dream girl, committed a murder and they asked me to take the fall. Simon personally sent me to prison, promising, "If you confess, I'll marry you when you're out." Once finally released, I was determined to make them face justice. But as I investigated further, I stumbled upon an even larger conspiracy. The whole thing was so elaborate and dramatic that it seemed like a plot straight out of an Oscar-winning movie.
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Scarlett Barnes, Simon’s girlfriend and dream girl, had just committed a murder. "Simon, I can’t go to jail! You have to help me, okay?" she pleaded, tears streaming down her face. Simon, ever the devoted boyfriend, stayed quiet, knowing he couldn't let his beloved face prison time.
So, of course, I was the prime candidate to take the blame. Simon had always branded me a gold digger who'd do anything for money and I never denied it because, well, it was true. I’d lost track of how many times I’d covered for Scarlett—whether it was skipping classes or dealing with her dating issues. I accepted all of it, simply because I needed the money. The rich kids were generous and a few false accusations were manageable. But I never imagined Scarlett would actually kill someone. When Simon called me to meet, I figured he was about to ask me to take the fall once more.
"Zara, I have something important to talk to you," he said. The tone in his voice sent a shiver down my spine, but I tried to stay calm as I made my way to his house. When I arrived, the atmosphere was tense and heavy. I immediately sensed something was wrong.
Scarlett, who was usually so proud, was on her knees, crying, with her parents present. “Zara, Zara! Please, only you can save me!” I’d never seen her so desperate.
Normally, after I took the fall for her, she'd just give me the money and say, “Without me, you’d be broke, right?” I never argued because it was true—without a rich girl like her to mess up, I might really be poor.
But I never felt grateful; it was more like a job. Do you thank your boss or yourself for staying late and working hard? I’d endured plenty of beatings for her.