His Future Self Told Him Never to Divorce Me

After three years of fighting in divorce court, Julian suddenly withdrew the case.

It was hard to believe. Just a while ago, because I slapped his cheating assistant, Chloe, he pinned me down and beat me black and blue, forcing me to sign the divorce papers.

But now, he came home on time every single day. He handed over his phone, reported his schedule, and never mentioned the word "divorce" again.

I thought he had finally fallen back in love with me.

Until today, when I couldn't help but ask him why.

He stayed silent for a long time before whispering, "My future self from ten years later called me."

"He said that after the divorce, you would start a fire and burn Chloe alive."

"So, I can't let you go."

At that moment, the cold truth finally hit me.

This marriage I had fought so hard to save wasn't salvaged because he changed his mind.

It was because he would rather trap me in a living hell for the rest of my life just to keep her safe.

If that was the case, this marriage wasn't worth keeping anymore.

Seeing my silence, Julian didn't say another word. He calmly put on his suit jacket, his face returning to its usual cold, composed mask.

Before heading out, he grabbed his car keys and spoke to me like he was checking off a to-do list.

"I have a board meeting this afternoon, and a client dinner right after."

"My phone will be on silent. If there's an emergency, call Secretary Vance."

He paused, his eyes lingering on my face.

"If you don't trust me, you can come to the office and check on me."

But he didn't walk over to hug me like he used to. He didn't even wait for my reply. He just closed the door behind him.

His black sedan slowly rolled out of the driveway.

I stood by the window, watching his tail lights fade into the heavy rain.

Suddenly, I realized the distance between us was just like that car. I could never catch up to it again.

Tears fell without warning.

Ever since I found out about him and Chloe, I had turned into a monster.

I wiped him down with rubbing alcohol. I checked his phone, tracked his bank accounts, went through his emails, and stalked his Snapchat. I even made his driver send me his GPS location every single day.

If he was even a minute late, I would interrogate him. Where were you? Who were you with? What did you say?

He explained over and over again. He said that night was a setup, that both he and Chloe had been drugged.

He showed me the security footage, the blood tests, the hotel logs.

But I couldn't hear a single word.

Until the day he pushed the signed divorce papers in front of me.

"Seraphina," he said, sounding incredibly exhausted. "If we keep doing this, we will drive each other crazy."

"The house, the company shares, the savingsIll give you seventy percent of everything."

"Let me go. And let yourself go, too."

That night, I locked myself in the bedroom with a bottle of sleeping pills.

When he broke the door down, he was shaking all over.

He held me, his eyes bloodshot, sobbing into my shoulder.

"Don't leave me."

"I was wrong. Punish me however you want."

"But don't use your own life to punish me."

For a long time after that, he never brought up the divorce.

But at some point, his plea of "letting each other go" slowly mutated into something else:

"Chloe can't survive without me."

Outside, the rain poured heavier.

I had left my umbrella right by the door, but I forgot to open it.

For all these years, I had been completely babied by him.

He drove me everywhere. He cut my steak. He put coats on me when it was cold. Even when I woke up thirsty in the middle of the night, there would always be a glass of warm water on my nightstand.

I used to think that love would last forever.

Only today did I realize that no one stands in the same spot waiting for you forever.

Rainwater dripped from my hair.

I couldn't tell if the wetness on my cheeks was the rain or my tears.

Not long after I got home, I broke out in a fever.

In my fever dream, I could hear someone calling my name.

A cool, damp towel was placed on my forehead, replaced again and again.

Then came that familiar, soothing voice.

"Her fever is going down."

"Just a little longer, babe. Youll be fine."

I tried so hard to open my eyes, wanting to grab the hand holding mine.

But in the next second, a harsh ringtone shattered the dream.

The room was completely empty.

There was no one by the bed.

Only my phone was vibrating violently.

I forced myself to pick it up.

"Ma'am," the voice of the private investigator I hired came through.

"Mr. Julian canceled all his meetings this afternoon."

My heart sank instantly.

"He left the office and drove straight to the Silverwood Wellness Retreat."

"He's been in there for over two hours now."

My grip on the phone tightened.

Silverwood Wellness Retreat.

That was where Chloe was staying.

Julians parting words from this morning echoed in my head:

"If you don't trust me, you can come to the office and check on me."

He knew me too well. He knew I would finally believe him this time.

Every other time, I would have rushed to his office to confirm.

But today, I didn't go.

And he lied to me anyway.

The clock on the wall pointed to 6:00 PM.

Usually, he would be home by now.

I didn't call him.

Instead, I opened my drawer, took out the signed divorce papers, and slid my wedding ring off my finger. I put them both into a manila envelope.

This time, he wouldn't have to ask.

I was going to end this marriage myself.

Before I could even reach Chloes room, a dozen bodyguards surrounded me.

The moment they saw me, they went on high alert.

"Ma'am, Mr. Julian gave strict orders. You are not allowed near Miss Chloe."

Through the gap in the wall of men, I saw the door to Chloe's suite. There was a framed photo of Julian and Chloe, surrounded by a pink heart.

Underneath, in cute calligraphy, it read: "[Our Secret Haven]".

I forced a cold laugh. "How pathetic."

I had once begged Julian to take photos like that with me.

But he had always brushed me off, saying he was the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar company and couldn't do something so childish.

It turned out he wasn't incapable of being childish. He just didn't want to do it with me.

I took a deep breath, ignoring the dull ache in my chest.

"Move out of my way."

"You all know how crazy I can get. Don't test me."

I reached into my bag and pulled out a small utility knife.

I only wanted to scare them.

But in the next second, one of the bodyguards lunged at me, slamming me to the ground.

The others pinned my arms behind my back. I couldn't move an inch.

"Apologies, Ma'am. Mr. Julian's orders. If you show any signs of instability, we must restrain you immediately."

Another guard pulled out his walkie-talkie.

"Sir, the wife is here. And she has a knife..."

Before he could finish, Julians panicked voice roared through the speaker.

"Then pin her down! Don't let her hurt Chloe! Do it now!"

My struggles stopped instantly.

"She's restrained, sir. Should we take her back to the villa or lock her up here?"

The radio went silent for a few seconds.

Finally, Julian let out a low, tired sigh.

"Fine. Bring her in."

The knife was swiped from my hand, but in the scuffle, the blade had sliced my wrist.

As they dragged me into the room, blood dripped onto the floor, drop by drop.

I bit my lip, forcing myself not to cry.

But the moment I stepped inside, I froze.

The sunset filtered through sheer curtains, casting a warm glow over a rocking chair on the balcony.

On the side table sat a cup of hot coffee and an open book.

In the corner, a vintage record player was spinning, playing Julians favorite jazz record.

This wasn't a hospital room. This was a home.

Specifically, it was the home I had designed.

Before our wedding, I had spent weeks drawing up blueprints based on our shared tastes.

But Julian had told me he didn't want me to stress. He hired a design firm instead and decorated our villa in a completely different style.

And now, my dream home was right in front of me.

Only it belonged to him and another woman.

"You're here," Julians voice came from behind.

I turned around, shock still written all over my face.

"Chloe loved this design," he said casually. "So I built it for her."

"You don't mind, do you?"

"Are you insane?" I whispered, my voice trembling. "What do you think?"

He nodded slowly.

"Then tear it down, Seraphina. If it makes you happy, destroy it."

His eyes flicked briefly to my bleeding wrist, but there was only disgust in his gaze.

"Im used to your tantrums. Chloe is, too."

He looked out the window, speaking in a tone so calm it was chilling.

"Look, Seraphina. The rainbow is out. The weather is beautiful."

I followed his gaze. The rain had stopped, and a perfect rainbow spanned the sky.

But the storm inside my heart would never clear.

"Babe, come play "It Takes Two" with me..."

Chloes voice cut off the moment she saw me.

The controller slipped from her hands and clattered to the floor.

Suddenly, she grabbed her head and started screaming at the top of her lungs.

"No! Please don't take my clothes off! Don't kill my baby!"

"I'm a home-wrecker! I'm a bitch!"

"I'm sorry! Please... I won't do it again..."

Julian rushed over, throwing his arms around her.

His eyes were red with pain. "Shh, it's okay. Don't cry, baby."

"I'm here. No one will ever hurt you again."

As he said those words, he stared directly at me.

His eyes were filled with pure, unadulterated hatred.

Suddenly, I laughed.

I laughed so hard tears streamed down my face.

For a split second, I wanted to grab Chloe and drag her off the balcony with me.

But my remaining sanity told me she wasn't worth it.

I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms, killing the urge to destroy us both.

I sneered, "Cut the act, Chloe. It's getting pathetic."

Chloe flinched, burying her face deeper into Julians chest.

"I... I don't know what you're talking about," she sobbed.

"PTSD doesn't look like that," I said coldly.

Julian stood up, blocking her like a human shield.

"Enough! If you have a problem, bring it to me!"

"Stop acting like you know everything. I won't let you slander her!"

Of course I knew.

I had been living with PTSD for over a decade.

Ever since the day I watched my mother die.

Whenever I pictured the pool of blood spreading around her body, I would vomit, scream, and hurt myself.

I had never told anyone that my mother jumped off a building because my father had cheated on her.

I had sworn I would never enter the prison of marriage.

But Julian had sworn on his entire family's legacy that he would never betray me.

I thought I would escape my mother's fate.

But in the end, I walked right into it.

The hysterical screaming, the self-destruction.

But I was done. I didn't want to play this game anymore.

I reached into my bag to grab the signed divorce papers.

Julian's face went pale.

"What are you doing?!" he screamed. "Hold her down!"

Before my hand could even clear my bag, the bodyguards slammed me back onto the marble floor.

Julian kicked my bag away, the force of it numbing my fingers.

"As long as I am breathing, you will never lay a finger on her!"

I stared up at him from the floor. His eyes were a chaotic mix of fear and rage.

I remembered a night not too long ago when he had slipped out of bed while I was asleep.

I thought he was going to see Chloe, so I followed him.

But I heard him on the phone, asking, "Will Seraphina go crazy ten years from now? As long as I keep her close, can I protect Chloe?"

I didn't understand what he meant back then.

But now, I did.

That was the phone call from the future.

He was terrified of me.

No matter what I did, he would always assume I wanted to murder his mistress.

My cheek was pressed against the freezing marble floor. It felt just like my heart.

I let out a bitter laugh. "The envelope in my bag has the divorce papers. I already signed them."

Julian looked suspicious, but he reached down and opened my bag.

The moment he saw the papers, he ripped them into pieces.

"I told you! We are not getting a divorce!"

I looked at him calmly. "Because of that phone call?"

Chloe pulled at his sleeve. "What phone call?"

"Nothing," Julian muttered.

"But you promised to give me a home," Chloe whined, her eyes welling with tears.

Julian clenched his fists, his face turning red.

"Don't ask questions. Just know I am doing this for your own good."

He wiped her tears gently. "I can give you everything, Chloe. Everything except the marriage itself."

Those words were meant for me, too.

He would give me the title of his wife, but nothing else. No love, no respect, no truth.

Suddenly, I felt so tired.

"Just sign it, Julian. I'm not going to burn her."

"That phone call? I paid someone to use a voice changer to trick you."

"What?!"

Julian froze, staring at me in total disbelief.

"It's true," I said, turning my face away.

"I was terrified you would leave me, so I made up that lie to keep you."

He hesitated, still doubtful. "But he knew everything about my childhood. Things only I know."

I let out a soft laugh. "Julian, I've known you since we were kids. I know every single detail of your life. I knew exactly how to make the threat believable."

Julian went dead silent, his brows furrowing as he stared at me, trying to read my mind.

I pressed my forehead against the floor, hiding my expression.

This was the first time in our entire lives that I had lied to him.

Maybe there really was a call from ten years later.

Maybe he really would regret everything.

But I didn't care anymore. I was too exhausted.

I sniffled, looking up at him with a smirk.

"So, what's it going to be? Are you signing or not?"

"If you don't sign now, I might change my mind."

"Slap!"

Julian's hand whipped across my face.

My cheek burned instantly.

"You can play your crazy games all you want, Seraphina, but this is crossing the line!"

"You are a psycho!"

He turned to his assistant. "Print out a new copy of the divorce papers. We are signing them right now!"

I thought I couldn't feel pain anymore.

But the hollow space in my chest still felt ice-cold and aching.

The new papers were brought in. Julian signed them furiously and threw them in my face.

"You get half of my assets. I won't keep a single penny from you."

"But mark my words, I never want to see your face again."

The bodyguards finally let go of me.

I scrambled up from the floor, gathered the papers, and walked out without looking back.

On my drive home, it started pouring again.

The rain soaked me to the bone, but my mind had never been clearer.

Suddenly, my phone rang. It was an unknown number.

"Seraphina, this is you from ten years in the future. You have to divorce Julian!"

"But please, don't do anything stupid. Don't hurt yourself, and don't start a fire. Otherwise, Julian will torment you for the rest of your life!"

I stayed quiet for a couple of seconds.

"I already signed the papers. And I'm not going to do anything stupid."

The "me" on the other end let out a massive sigh of relief. "Thank God."

"Go live your life, Seraphina. Be happy."

"I will," I said, and hung up.

Two phone calls from the future, predicting two completely different endings.

But I didn't care which one was real anymore.

I was done living in fear.

Back at the villa, I packed my things.

A few old clothes, my passport, and some documents. That was all I had to show for my years with him.

But the framed sketch of the two of us on the nightstand caught my eye.

Julian always said he hated taking photos.

In our ten years together, we didn't even have a single wedding photo.

Yet Chloes place was covered with pictures of them. Surfing on the beach, skiing in the snow. They had traveled the world together.

While he and I were just like the two sketched figures in this frameliving under the same roof, but worlds apart.

I smashed the frame, tore the drawing in half, and took my half of the memories with me.

When I reached the airport, my phone started buzzing.

It was Julian.

I declined the call.

He kept calling. I kept declining.

Then came the text messages:

"I never told anyone about the scar on the sole of my foot! How did the caller know?!"

"Was the call real?!"

"You lied to me! You never lie to me!"

"Seraphina! Where the hell are you?!"

I turned off my phone and buckled my seatbelt.

An hour ago, I had called my father.

His private jet was already taking me to a city where it never rained.