Ch. Divorce My H 28 Divorce My H 28

Travis‘ POV 

“She what?” 

The words hit me like a freight train. I stared at my secretary, the blood draining from my face. 

“Sir, I… I’m sorry,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper, repeating it again, “Mrs. Harper… Zoe… she… she killed herself.” 

I couldn’t breathe. The room spun as her words sank in, each syllable clawing at my 

“Where?” I demanded, my voice sharper than I intended. 

“By the old pier,” she said. “The police are there now.” 

chest. 

I bolted out of the shopping mall. Madison was calling me but that was the least of my concern as I hurried towards the pier. 

She killed herself? No. That’s impossible. She wouldn’t do that. 

The scene at the pier was surreal. Flashing red and blue lights illuminated the area, casting long, eerie shadows over the water. Officers moved in checking the crime scene. I pushed through the crowd, my heart pounding. “Where is she?” I barked at the nearest officer. 

The man gestured toward the shoreline. “We’re retrieving the body now, sir.” 

The word body made my stomach churn. 

As I approached, the smell of salt and damp wood filled the air. The sound of waves lapping against the dock brought an unwelcome sense of familiarity. 

This place… 

I froze, realization crashing over me like the tide. This was where Zoe and I used to come on dates–our little sanctuary by the sea. 

Why here? 

“Travis.” 

I turned to see my friend David standing a few feet away. “They’re finding her body.” 

“She’s not-“My voice cracked. “This can’t be real.” 

David shook his head, his expression grim. “I told you this would happen. I warned you, Travis. There was no way you could keep the truth from her forever.” 

“Don’t,” I snapped, though my voice lacked conviction. “Don’t put this on me.” 

“Who else should I blame?” he shot back. “You lied to her. You used her. And now she’s 

dead because of it.” 

I wanted to argue, to deny it, but the words wouldn’t come. 

The officers worked quickly, pulling Zoe’s lifeless body from the water. 

I stood frozen, my breath hitching as I saw her. She looked so small, so fragile. Her hair clung to her pale face, and her lips were tinged with blue. 

Chapter & 

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“Mr. Harper,” one of the detectives said, breaking me out of my trance. “We need you to confirm if this is your wife.” 

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. My legs felt like they would give out beneath 

1. me. 

The detective waited patiently, holding a small plastic bag. Inside was a crumpled piece of paper–a suicide note. 

“Mr. Harper,” he said gently. “This was found near the scene.” 

My hands trembled as I took the bag. I unfolded the note, my eyes scanning the shaky handwriting. 

“I can’t do this anymore. The man I loved betrayed me. The life I thought we had was a lie. I don’t want to live in this pain any longer.” 

The note slipped from my fingers, and I staggered back, the weight of her words pressing down on me. 

David’s voice cut through the haze. “She knew, Travis. She knew everything. And now she’s gone.” 

“I don’t care,” I said, my voice hollow. “She didn’t mean anything to me.” 

The lie tasted bitter on my tongue, but I clung to it. It was easier than admitting the truth. 

David scoffed. “Keep telling yourself that.” 

As the officers placed Zoe’s body onto a stretcher, something inside me broke. 

I told myself I wouldn’t care. I convinced myself that Zoe was just a pawn in my grand plan -a convenient tool to get what I wanted. 

But as I stood there, watching her lifeless form, I couldn’t ignore the ache in my chest. Memories of her smile, her laughter, the way she looked at me like I was her whole world- they all came rushing back, each one a painful reminder of what I’d lost. 

I thought I could keep her at arm’s length. I thought I could lie and manipulate my way through this. 

But now, staring at the consequences of my actions, I realized how wrong I was. 

The detective cleared his throat, pulling me back to the present. “Mr. Harper, can you confirm if this is your wife?” 

I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. 

“Yes, it’s her,” David said, stepping forward. 

“No,” I said suddenly, my voice hoarse. “It’s not her. This isn’t Zoe.” 

The detective frowned. “Mr. Harper, the evidence-” 

“It’s not her!” I shouted, my voice breaking. 

The officers exchanged uneasy glances, but they didn’t press further. 

I turned and walked away, my chest tight, my mind racing. 

I couldn’t confirm it. 

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Because if I did, it would make it real. 

I called my staff, “Find everything about Zoe’s whereabouts for the last few days!” 

This isn’t her… no. 

Zoe’s pov 

The scissors made a sharp snip as locks of my hair fell to the vanity. 

I stared at myself in the mirror, watching as my reflection transformed. My once–long waves now hung in uneven, choppy strands around my face. With each cut, I shed another piece of Zoe Hart, the woman who had trusted the wrong man, the woman who had been betrayed and discarded. 

I smeared makeup over my face, creating shadows and contours that aged me. Then I added a fake scar along my cheekbone, its jagged line catching the light. 

When I was done, the woman in the mirror looked nothing like me. 

Behind me, the television droned on, the news anchor’s voice sharp and somber. 

“…the tragic suicide of Zoe Hart, wife of businessman Travis Harper…” 

I turned to watch as the screen showed the crime scene by the river. The police had cordoned off the area, and reporters swarmed like vultures. 

The camera cut to Travis, who was kneeling by the riverbank, his face buried in his hands. 

He looked devastated, tears streaming down his cheeks as he clung to the body they believed was mine. 

I felt bile rise in my throat. 

He didn’t care about me. He cared about the spectacle, about his image. He knew the world was watching, and he had to play the part of the grieving husband. 

The anchor’s voice continued. “The suicide note left by Mrs. Hart suggests a connection to her late mother’s surgery and allegations against Mr. Harper. Authorities are now investigating Harper Enterprises as his stocks continue to plummet.” 

A smile tugged at my lips as I reached for the remote. 

Click 

The screen went black, and the silence felt like victory. 

But I wasn’t done. 

I opened my laptop and logged into my dummy account. The photo of Travis kissing Madison stared back at me. I hit “Post” and watched as the image went live, accompanied by a scathing caption: 

Caught in the act: Travis Harper and Madison Moon, the real story behind the lies. 

Within minutes, the post started gaining traction. Likes, comments, shares–it spread like wildfire. 

I scrolled through the reactions, each one feeding the fire inside me. 

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“Madison Moon’s modeling career is over.” 

“So this is the kind of man Travis Harper is?” 

“Disgusting. Both of them.” 

Satisfied, I logged out and closed my laptop. 

I slipped into my new outfit–simple jeans, a hoodie, and sneakers. From my bag, I pulled out my new passport and ID, inspecting the name and face printed on them. Emily Carson. 

Zoe Hart was dead. 

Before heading to the port, I made one last stop. 

The riverbank was still swarming with police and reporters. Yellow tape stretched across the area, and the air buzzed with frantic activity. 

I stayed hidden, watching from a distance as Travis stood by the edge of the scene, talking to Madison. 

Her hand rested on his arm, her voice carrying over the chaos. 

“It’s better this way,” she said, her tone soft but triumphant. “Now we can finally be together.” 

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. 

Madison smiled at him, tilting her head coyly. “I’ve been thinking… I regret choosing Ethan. You’ve always been the one, Travis. Without Zoe, nothing’s stopping us now.” 

Then she kissed him. 

I looked away, my chest tightening with rage. 

Even now, after everything, they were standing there like nothing had happened. Like my life, my pain, my death meant nothing to them. 

I turned and walked away. I refused to let their betrayal consume me. 

The port was quiet, the air salty and cool against my skin. 

My rented yacht sat docked at the far end. I boarded quickly, my bag slung over my shoulder. 

The interior was just as pristine as I’d expected–modern, spacious, and private. It would be my home for the next few days until I reached my destination. 

I stepped into the cabin, ready to drop my bag and relax. 

But then I saw him. 

A man stood by the window, his back to me. He was completely naked, his toned body illuminated by the golden light streaming through the glass. 

I froze, my heart skipping a beat. 

“What the hell?!” I shouted, my voice sharp with shock. 

He turned, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. 

His face was familiar–sharp jawline, piercing eyes, and an air of effortless confidence. 

Chapter 5 

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15:59 Tue, 24 Jun. 

Preston Urie. 

Madison’s ex–boyfriend. 

Travis’s childhood rival. 

“What are you doing here?” I demanded. 

He smirked, completely unfazed by the situation–or his lack of clothing. 

“That’s a hell of a way to say hello, Zoe Hart,” he said, leaning casually against the wall.