Eight Divorces Too Many

Charlotte Crowe's childhood sweetheart started acting up again, which meant she was ready to divorce me again.

By then, I had gone numb. I looked at her calmly and said, "This will be the eighth time."

Guilt crossed her face as she looked at me, her eyes full of helplessness and pleading.

"Gregory, I don't have a choice. You know Victor talks about killing himself every day. I can't just ignore him. But don't worry. As soon as I calm Victor down, we'll get married again."

I said nothing.

She had said the same thing to me more times than I could count.

We got married eight times and got divorced eight times.

Even the courthouse staff knew me by now. Behind my back, they said we practically kept the divorce court in business.

With the freshly issued divorce papers in my hand, a staff member behind me asked curiously, "So when are you coming back for your next remarriage?"

I gave a faint shake of my head.

"There won't be a next time."

The moment I stepped out of the courthouse, I saw Charlotte Crowe coaxing Victor Sterling with a soft, indulgent look on her face.

Half an hour ago, Victor had been at home, threatening to kill himself. Now, after only a few words from her, he was smiling like nothing had happened.

Every time I saw something like that, I felt that same strange, disorienting disbelief.

Was he really the same person who had smashed a glass bottle, held a sharp shard to his throat, and screamed until his voice tore raw?

Today was supposed to be my third wedding anniversary with Charlotte.

Only, calling it our third anniversary was almost laughable.

If we counted from the first time we got married, then yes, it had been exactly three years.

But in between, we had divorced and remarried, then divorced and remarried again.

It had only been a month since our most recent wedding.

Now, we were divorced again.

In three short years, we had married eight times and divorced eight times.

I never thought the jokes I used to see online about serial divorce couples would become my actual life.

When Victor saw me walk out of the courthouse in a daze, he shot me a smug look and tore open the wound in my chest all over again.

"Charlotte, did you lie to me? How did the divorce go through so fast? Did Gregory force you not to go through with it again? He probably wishes I'd just die so no one would be around to cling to you anymore!"

Charlotte looked helpless.

She no longer defended me the way she used to, and she no longer spoke up for me. She only comforted him gently, then handed him the divorce papers.

"They're right here. How could I be lying to you?"

Victor looked at the papers and immediately nodded in satisfaction. He finally stopped talking.

But when Charlotte wasn't looking, he lifted his chin at me and gave me a look full of contempt.

I knew he was provoking me on purpose.

Even so, every emotion I had tried to bury still stirred under his gaze.

Most people probably wouldn't believe the reason he had thrown this tantrum.

A month ago, Charlotte had given me an early third-anniversary gift, and Victor had seen it. He flew into a jealous rage.

We had only just remarried at the time, yet Victor made such a scene that Charlotte and I ended up going back to the courthouse to file for divorce again.

The clerk handling our paperwork even made a joke.

"You two come to this courthouse more often than most people go grocery shopping."

The shame hit me so hard that I lowered my head, wishing the floor would open up and swallow me.

In three short years, we had been to the courthouse so many times. Nearly everyone who worked there knew us.

Charlotte lost her temper on the spot. She stepped in front of me protectively, as if she were standing up for me.

"Just process the paperwork! Why do you have so much to say? My husband and I like getting married and divorced for fun. What's it to you?"

The clerk fell silent after that and processed our divorce filing without another word.

From the day we filed, Victor had been counting down the cooling-off period.

Early this morning, he couldn't wait any longer and forced Charlotte to take me to pick up the final divorce papers.

He smashed a glass, held a sharp shard near his throat, and used it to threaten Charlotte.