After My Husband Dumped Me for His Co-Star Novel Cover

After My Husband Dumped Me for His Co-Star

9.2 / 10.0
The night Nathan claims his triple crown should be our triumph. I've rehearsed my smile for years, clutching Dom Pérignon and a card rewritten to perfection. But backstage, the celebration I dreamed of crumbles when I discover his greatest victory comes with a devastating price: his co-star. This modern romance unravels a marriage shattered by fame, leaving me to confront a future I never imagined.
After My Husband Dumped Me for His Co-Star Summary
The night Nathan claims his triple crown should be our triumph. I've rehearsed my smile for years, clutching Dom Pérignon and a card rewritten to perfection. But backstage, the celebration I dreamed of crumbles when I discover his greatest victory comes with a devastating price: his co-star. This modern romance unravels a marriage shattered by fame, leaving me to confront a future I never imagined.
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After My Husband Dumped Me for His Co-Star Chapter 1

The hallway backstage smelled like champagne and hairspray. I could hear the crowd still buzzing out front, the orchestra playing people off, the laughter of winners holding gold statues. My heels clicked on the polished floor. I was smiling. I'd practiced this smile for seven years.

I had a bottle of Dom Pérignon in one hand and a handwritten card in the other. The card said: *You did it. I'm so proud of you.* I'd rewritten it three times because I wanted the words to be perfect. Nathan had just won his third major award in a single season. Triple crown. Youngest actor ever. The speech he gave made half the audience cry.

I reached his dressing room. The door was cracked open. I lifted my hand to knock, then stopped.

Lana's laugh came through first. Low. Breathy. The kind of laugh that doesn't happen in public.

I pushed the door open.

Nathan was sitting on the leather couch. His bow tie was undone. His jacket was on the floor. Lana Ortiz was draped across his lap, her red dress hitched up, her arms around his neck. Her mouth was on his.

They didn't hear me at first. I stood there holding a champagne bottle and a card like an idiot.

Then Nathan looked up.

He didn't jump. He didn't push her off. He just looked at me. His face was calm. Almost bored.

Lana turned her head. When she saw me, she smiled. She didn't move from his lap.

"Ellie," Nathan said. His voice was flat. "We need to talk."

I set the champagne bottle down on the table beside the door. My hands were steady. That surprised me.

"You should've called first," Lana said. She tilted her head. Her lipstick was smudged. "This is a private moment."

I looked at Nathan. He met my eyes without flinching.

"I want a divorce," he said.

The words didn't land the way I thought they would. There was no shock. No pain. Just a strange, cold clarity.

"When?" I asked.

He blinked. "What?"

"When did you decide?"

He leaned back. Lana's hand was still on his chest. "Does it matter?"

"It does to me."

He sighed. Like I was wasting his time. "Ellie. You were useful. You helped me get started. But I don't need you anymore."

Useful.

I looked at Lana. She was watching me with that same thin smile.

"You should know your place," she said softly.

I reached up and took off my wedding ring. It slid off easily. I'd lost weight in the last year. I walked over to the vanity where Nathan's trophy sat under the lights, all gold and gleaming. I set the ring down next to it.

Nathan stood up. Lana slid off his lap, adjusting her dress.

"That's it?" he asked. "No crying? No begging?"

I looked at him. Really looked at him. I'd memorized this face. I knew the scar above his left eyebrow from a childhood bike accident. I knew he hated the shape of his nose. I knew he practiced his smile in the mirror before every audition.

I didn't know him at all.

"No," I said.

I turned and walked out. Behind me, I heard Lana laugh again. The sound followed me all the way down the hall.

I didn't cry in the elevator. I didn't cry in the parking garage. I sat in my car with my hands on the steering wheel and stared at the concrete wall in front of me.

Seven years.

Seven years of 3 a.m. audition tape sessions. Seven years of ghost-managing his PR. Seven years of funding his indie films through my family trust while he told interviewers he'd 'done it all himself.' Seven years of standing in the background at premieres while he smiled for cameras and pretended I didn't exist.

I'd told myself it was love. I'd told myself he needed time. I'd told myself that when he finally made it, he'd see me.

He'd seen me tonight. And he'd looked right through me.

I pulled out my phone. My father's contact was at the top of my favorites. I hadn't called him in three months. He'd asked me once, two years ago, if Nathan was good to me. I'd said yes. He'd nodded and never asked again.

I pressed call.

He answered on the first ring.

"Ellie."

His voice was steady. Calm. Like he'd been waiting.

"I need a lawyer," I said. "The best one you know."

There was a pause. Not surprise. Just acknowledgment.

"Where are you?" he asked.

"Parking garage. Shrine Auditorium."

"Stay there. I'm sending a car."

"I have my car."

"Leave it. Marcus will pick it up tomorrow."

I closed my eyes. "Dad—"

"You don't explain tonight," he said quietly. "Tonight, you just come home."

I nodded even though he couldn't see me. "Okay."

"Ellie."

"Yeah?"

"It's over now."

I looked down at my left hand. The pale line where my ring used to be was barely visible in the dim light.

"Yeah," I whispered. "It is."

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