He Married Me by Mistake, Then Regretted Losing Me

Delaney POV

"Sign it, Delaney."

The white document hit the polished mahogany desk with a heavy thud.

I didn't touch the paper. I sat speechless while staring at the bold black title printed at the top: DIVORCE AGREEMENT.

"Cynthia is back," Raiden continued, standing by the dark window with his hands shoved deep into his trousers pockets. He didn't even look at me. "Our marriage has reached its end. There is no reason to drag this out any longer."

A dry laugh escaped my throat. "Three years, Raiden. Three years of playing the quiet, dutiful wife, and you toss a document at me like a failed contract?"

Raiden turned slowly, his sharp jaw set, his dark eyes locking onto mine with total indifference. "Don't act like a victim. You knew the truth when you took that ring. I never loved you. The only reason I stood at that altar was because I mistook you for Cynthia. I thought you were the one who pulled me out of that frozen lake three years ago."

Every word felt like a blade twisting directly into my chest. My hands shook in my lap, so I clamped my nails hard into the meat of my palms until the pain anchored me.

"So that's all I was to you?" I asked, my voice trembling despite my best efforts. "A mistake? A temporary replacement until her flight landed?"

"You were a substitute," Raiden said mercilessly, stepping toward the desk and leaning over it. "And now the original is back. Are you going to sign it, or throw a scene?"

I looked into his eyes, searching for even a ghost of the man I had spent three years caring for—the man whose cold dismissals I swallowed every night. There was nothing there. Just stone.

"If I ask if you've really made your decision..." My voice faltered before I caught myself. "Is there anything left to say?"

"There is nothing left to discuss," Raiden said flatly.

"Raiden? Are you in here?"

The doors swept open. Cynthia stood at the threshold, draped in an oversized cardigan that made her look fragile and helpless. Her pale hands gripped the doorframe as if supporting her weight was a monumental effort.

She froze, her eyes darting from Raiden to me, then settling on the divorce papers.

"Oh... am I interrupting?" Cynthia whispered, her lower lip trembling slightly. A subtle, victorious gleam flashed in her eyes for a split second before she covered her mouth. "I’m sorry, Delaney... I didn't mean to barge in."

Raiden crossed the room in three strides, taking Cynthia gently by the elbows to support her. "You shouldn't be standing, Cynthia. You need rest after the flight."

"I just felt so guilty sitting upstairs alone,"

Cynthia murmured, leaning her weight heavily against his chest as he guided her toward the sofa. She looked over at me with eyes full of fake, tearful sorrow. "Delaney... please don't be angry with Raiden. It's my fault for coming back... I told him we could wait..."

"It has nothing to do with you waiting, Cynthia," Raiden said softly, smoothing down the back of her hair. He shot a harsh glare at me. "Delaney took advantage of your absence. She knew who I was looking for, and she stayed quiet."

"Don't be so hard on her, Raiden," Cynthia sighed, her small fingers wrapping around his wrist. "We lost so many years... three whole years while I was paralyzed in Zurich, suffering through therapy..."

"And who caused that?" Raiden’s voice cracked with a dark, bitter fury. He turned his glare fully back onto me. "If Delaney hadn't frozen like a coward on that ice, you wouldn't have been dragged under trying to save me. You wouldn't have lost the use of your legs. She ruined your youth, Cynthia."

Coward.

The lie hit my chest like a physical weight, cutting off my air. My skin burned. My wrists throbbed under my long sleeves—where faint, jagged scars from sharp, broken ice still remained buried deep beneath my skin.

I opened my mouth, the truth burning at the back of my tongue. I was the one under the ice! I pulled you out while she hid inside!

But the memory of my mother's dying face flashed behind my eyes. Protect your sister, Delaney. Promise me.

I swallowed the blood in my mouth and closed my eyes, letting the crushing weight of that promise suffocate the truth back down.

"If divorcing me is what you truly want, Raiden," I said, opening my eyes and looking him dead in the face, "then I won't stand in your way."

Raiden blinked, a flicker of genuine shock cracking through his icy composure. He stared at me, his jaw tight, clearly waiting for the tears to spill. For three years, he had seen me bend over backward to keep his favor, swallowing every insult. He expected me to drop to my knees, to weep, to desperately beg him to reconsider.

​Instead, I just looked at him with empty eyes.

​Realizing I wasn't going to break, his expression hardened back into cold arrogance. He reached into his suit jacket, pulled out a checkbook, and quickly scribbled a figure across the paper with a heavy, practiced stroke.

​He ripped the check off with a sharp snap and slid it across the desk, stopping it right on top of the contract.

"Ten million dollars," Raiden said, his tone flat and transactional. "Take it, sign the papers, and leave the estate by tomorrow morning."

I stared down at the long string of zeroes. Ten million dollars—the price tag he had placed on three years of my life, my silent devotion, and the scars hidden beneath my sleeves.

A cold, calm quiet settled over the room. I picked up the check, feeling the crisp paper between my trembling fingers. I looked Raiden straight in the eyes, raised both hands, and slowly tore the paper in half.

Rip.

Raiden’s jaw tightened, his eyes flinching in disbelief. "Delaney, what are you—"

I folded the scraps and tore them again, letting the white pieces flutter down onto his desk like cold snow.

Without breaking eye contact, I picked up the gold pen, pressed the nib to the bottom line, and signed my name—Delaney Vance—for the final time.

I capped the pen, set it down, and slowly twisted the diamond wedding ring off my left finger. My skin felt bare and cold as I set the heavy ring directly on top of the signed document.

"Keep your money, Raiden," I said, my voice steady, quiet, and completely empty of pain.

"My love for you was free. You couldn't afford me then, and you certainly can't afford me now."