The Harem Wife's Final Escape

Every year on our anniversary, Gary would drag some woman home, calling it my "training."

For our tenth, he showed up with a karaoke girl dressed in a bunny costume.

"She doesn't have a gown, so give her your wedding dress. And that jewelry I gave you—hand it over. Oh, and your shoes should fit her just fine."

"She's young, inexperienced. Teach her the ropes—especially the bedroom stuff."

Everyone expected me to crumble. And, as usual, I didn't disappoint.

"I want a divorce."

Gary smirked, exhaling smoke through his nose.

"Sarah, how many times have we played this game? I'm sick of hearing it—more than I'm sick of your pathetic little moans in bed."

"Fine. You want out? I'll give you a hundred million dollars."

The room exploded with laughter. They all thought it was another one of my empty threats.

But they didn't know—this was the hundredth time I'd said it… and the first time I meant it.

All eyes locked onto me—even the karaoke girl, who giggled behind her hand.

"Place your bets! I say she chickens out before she hits the door."

"A million says she stays!"

"Thirty thousand on her crawling back!"

The annual "Will Sarah Leave?" betting pool was in full swing.

Half the room hated me for losing them money. The other half? They just hated me.

I almost laughed. Ten years. And only now do I grow a spine.

Then, cutting through the noise—

"I bet she leaves."

A deep voice, calm and certain. People tried to talk him out of it, but I couldn't see who'd spoken.

"Gary, I'll send the divorce papers to your office. Sign them when they arrive."

I'd screamed "divorce" a hundred times. But this was the first time I mentioned papers.

His cigarette trembled, ash scattering on the floor.

I ignored it. Kneeling, I slipped off my heels and set them beside the girl—Lily, barely twenty, all wide eyes and soft curves.

"They're a little tight. You'll get used to them."

"About the dress and jewelry—the housekeeper will fetch them for you."

"You're the tenth girl he's brought home. The other nine are on the third floor. Your room's at the end of the hall, on the right."

Ten years of marriage. Gary had collected women like trophies—tall, short, sweet, wild. Rumor was he was building his own damn harem.

But I was never part of the collection.

Brushing invisible dust from my palms, I turned toward the door—barefoot.

Then a hand yanked me back.

"Sarah, if you're leaving, leave clean. Everything on you was bought with my money."

The floor burned like ice under my feet.

"You want me to strip?"

Gary's smirk sharpened.

"Your family went bankrupt. Your mother stripped you naked and dumped you in my bed, remember? You came to me with nothing—you leave with nothing."

"Or… are you having second thoughts? Fine. Get on your knees, put her shoes on, and I'll forgive you."

The room howled.