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Mara had divorced Knox Thorne 99 times
Every time, he’d just sit back and wait out the “divorce time out,” letting her pull all those sad sack moves to win him
over.
Only when she’d finally buttered him up good would he let her call off the divorce papers
After the ninety–ninth divorce, as Mara got up to leave, the clerk called out curiously,” So when are you coming back to call this one off?”
She looked at Knox’s cold, retreating figure and told herself-
Never again.
Once the month dragged by, they’d be done. For real.
The wind outside the courthouse was brutal. Mara had barely made it to the sidewalk when Knox slid into his black Mercedes without even a glance her way.
She dragged herself down the sidewalk, feeling like someone had ripped her chest open and let the freezing wind
howl straight through her ribs.
Screech-
Brakes shrieked behind her.
Before she could even turn around, she got slammed to the ground–like someone hit her with a goddamn truck. Her knees were stinging like fire, and her palms were scraped raw.
Looking up, she saw Knox’s friends hopping out of their car.
“Oh shit! Oh fuck! We just hit bro’s girl!”
“Dude, don’t.” Someone elbowed him. “They’re getting divorced, remember? Knox hasn’t called off the papers yet.”
Mara tried pushing herself up, but her knees were shot. Through her messy hair, she spotted the Mercedes‘ back window sliding down halfway–Knox’s sharp profile barely visible in the shadows.
“Knox,” one of his boys jogged over, “we taking her to the ER, or hitting up the party?”
Everything went dead quiet.
Mara stared hard at that window, her heart pounding so hard it ached.
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“The party.” Knox’s voice came through the glass, cold as ice.
Two words that cut like knives.
The Mercedes peeled out, exhaust fumes slapping her in the face.
She gritted her teeth and slowly pulled herself up, limping home one step at a time.
Every step sent a stabbing pain through her knee, but nothing compared to the bleeding hole in her chest.
Limping back home, Mara’s first move was yanking clothes into a suitcase.
She dug up all the proof of loving him over the years–jewelry he’d tossed her way, his old lighter she’d secretly stashed, 999 paper stars she’d folded for him…
One by one, straight into the trash.
Until she hit the manila envelope buried deep in her drawer.
She’d seen this thing before, but her hands still shook opening it up again.
Love letters.
Knox’s love letters to her.
[“You brought me breakfast again today, but you don’t know I wake up at 5 AM just to watch you sneak up to my door with that lunchbox.“]
[“Your handwriting in those love notes is trash, but I’ve kept every one. Gonna roast you about it on our 50th anniversary.“]
[“That red dress you wore today was fire, but I don’t want other guys checking you out.“]
[“Three years you’ve been chasing me, and I almost caved today. But I wanna milk this a little longer–having you want me this bad.“]
Every single word was like a goddamn knife stabbing her heart raw.
If she hadn’t stumbled on these letters the other day, she never would’ve believed that Knox–who’d been ice–cold to her all these years–actually loved her all long.
She’d first spotted Knox at freshman orientation. He was giving the student speech, looking all untouchable like some kind of prince.
One look and she was toast.
Tons of girls were after Knox, but Mara was the most relentless. She brought him breakfast he never touched, memorized his whole schedule for “random” run–ins, even busted her wrist sneaking out to grab him meds when he
20 Divorces later I Married His Rival He Couldn’t Touch!
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got hurt playing ball.
Four years, 1,460 days following him around before finally winning him over.
Even after dating, he stayed ice–cold–never showed any affection. Hell, she’d been the one to pop the question, but she ate up whatever scraps he threw her.
Three years into marriage, he started pulling the divorce card.
First time: her cooking was too salty. “Can’t even handle something this simple.”
Second time: she wore a dress he didn’t like.
Ninety–eighth time: he’d limited her to ten daily texts, and she’d accidentally sent eleven–just “goodnight“.
Every single time, she’d beg like a kicked puppy not to split.
The ninety–ninth time, she’d been on her knees in his study all night before he finally agreed to call it off.
That same night, she’d found this envelope locked in his safe–love letters going back to freshman year when she’d first started chasing him.
He’d loved her all along.
All those divorce threats? Just to watch her cry and beg him to stay. He got off on her love, treating her heart like a
toy.
Next day, Knox asked for the hundredth divorce.
Why? She’d eaten crackers in his car and dropped crumbs.
Staring at this guy she’d loved for seven years, Mara suddenly felt like she was looking at a total stranger.
This time, she was done playing his twisted game.
This time, she wouldn’t beg as he expected.
They were finished. Done. Over.
She scrubbed her tears away hard and went back to stuffing clothes into the suitcase.
But halfway through packing, she realized her mom’s necklace was missing.
Just some beat–up silver chain, but it was the only thing Mom had left her.
Mara tore through the entire walk–in closet, even checked under the bed–but that silver necklace had vanished into
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thin air.
She plopped down on the floor, fingers mindlessly clutching the hem of her shirt. The study–she was sure only Knox had been in there besides her.
Remembering the party location from earlier, she bit her lip, grabbed her coat, and headed out.
Outside the club’s private room, their laughter cut through the thick door clear as day.
“I’m betting five days! No way Mara lasts longer before crawling back to beg Knox to remarry her!”
“Five days is way too long. Everyone knows she can’t breathe without Knox. Three days, tops.”
“One day! Didn’t she get on her knees begging him that same night last time?”
“Knox, what’s your bet?”
Dead silence. Knox was planted in his usual spot, whiskey glass between those long fingers, face unreadable.
Just as he opened his mouth, Mara kicked the door open, her voice dead steady:
“I’m betting a lifetime!”
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