He Chose Wrong I Chose Better (Irene and Ewing) novel Chapter 11

Was this really how he chose to get revenge on me?

It was almost unbelievable.

I remembered the way Ewing looked at me the moment I walked through the door—a glimmer of schadenfreude in his eyes.

So that was it.

I steadied myself, suddenly feeling unburdened. Facing this self-destructive idiot, I asked him again when he planned to move out of the house we'd shared as a married couple.

But he turned it right back on me. "You saw, didn't you? So desperate to kick me out now?"

He smirked. "Magnolia's a hell of a lot better in bed than you ever were."

The smugness in his voice was something I'd never heard before, and it sent a deep chill through me.

Still, I refused to let him see even a flicker of emotion.

Clenching my teeth, I shot back coldly, "Do you have any dignity left?"

I knew all too well—some people, especially men, when things go wrong in a relationship, they dodge responsibility. They spiral out and blame everything on the woman who finally asked for a breakup.

It's twisted logic, but so many guys do it.

But no matter what, self-destruction is never an excuse. You have to love yourself before anyone else can love you.

I remembered the first night Ewing and I became husband and wife. I'd prepared everything in advance, treating it almost like a sacred ritual. Seeing him bare his soul to me, hearing him call me his wife for the first time—it filled me with happiness, with a sense of responsibility and belonging.

I thought, from that moment on, I'd be his, and we'd never part.

Those feelings made us careful, cautious every time, making sure there were no surprises—after all, we were both building our careers.

I was never old-fashioned, but in this, I always put Ewing's wishes first.

I never imagined he'd stoop so low, that he wouldn't even bother with protection...

Utterly worthless. Pathetic.

I spoke, my voice flat: "Well, congratulations. You got exactly what you wanted."

Ewing's smugness returned, as if all his apologies from the past few months had been nothing but a joke.

The door lock clicked.

Magnolia walked in with her suitcase. The moment she saw me, her face lit up with triumphant satisfaction.

There was a glint in her eye—she was announcing her victory.

That was when the truth finally hit me.

I was the clown in this story.

All those times I thought Ewing was finally coming to his senses—it was just wishful thinking.

This was the real him, mask off at last.

All this time, he'd just been taunting me.

My pain over the past few days was nothing but a piece of their little reconciliation game.

At that moment, I felt, with total clarity, that I'd been played for a fool.

I had no intention of wasting another second on these two.

Forcing my anger down, I spoke evenly: "Funny, I seem to recall this house was a wedding gift from my parents."

Ewing laughed. "Yours? Come on, Irene, what does that make me?"

"A live-in accessory? I've got just as much claim on this place as you do."

"Unless you've got fifty grand for me, don't expect me to leave anytime soon."