My Ex-Husband is Out of Control Novel by Glory Writes

Serena’s POV

I sat on the hard, cold bench in my cell, my mind swirling with thoughts of regret and self–loathing.

How did I end up here? I never wanted any of this to happen. I should have told Elijah everything from the start, but fear had paralyzed me.NôvelDrama.Org owns © this.

I shouldn’t be here,” I muttered to myself, gripping the edge of the bench tightly. “I’m not the one who planned this.”

But here I was, locked up and alone, my only company the echoes of my own thoughts bouncing off the walls. I knew Elijah blamed me for what had happened to Sophia and Reese. He refused to even look at me, let alone speak to me. And I couldn’t blame him. I had failed him so badly.

“Why didn’t I tell him everything?” I whispered, tears stinging my eyes. “Why did I let fear control me?”

The answer was simple. The mastermind behind it all had threatened Elijah’s life if I said anything. I couldn’t risk that, no matter how much I wanted to. The thought of Elijah getting hurt because of me was unbearable.

“I love you, Elijah,” I sobbed quietly. “You should have just loved me back, then none of this would have happened.”

“I’m sorry, Elijah,” I added in a whisper, my voice cracking. “I’m so sorry.”

But my apologies were useless now. I was stuck here, a prisoner in more ways than one. I had to stay silent, had to keep the secret, even if it meant losing everything.

A guard passed by, casting a wary glance in my direction. I forced myself to straighten up, to appear unaffected. Inside, though, I was crumbling. How much longer could I keep this up? How much longer could I live with the guilt?

As I tried to quiet my sobs, a vivid memory flooded my mind, taking me back to a time when I was blinded by anger and desperation.

I remembered how I had been pacing in the dimly lit hallway, my heart pounding with both fear and excitement. The figure standing before me was shrouded in darkness, their features obscured. But their voice was clear and commanding.

“We have a common enemy,” the figure had said, their tone smooth and persuasive. “Sophia stands in the way of what we both want.”

I had hesitated, unsure of the implications of what was being proposed. But the promise of freedom from Sophia’s presence had clouded my judgment.

“What should we do?” I had whispered, my heart thumping with nervousness and excitement.

The figure had smiled, a chilling sight in the darkness. We will work together to bring her down. Once she’s out of the picture, Elijah will be free to be with you. And you can enjoy more success too without worrying about her disturbing your plans.”

A life without Sophia.

I had felt a surge of hope at the thought of being reunited with Elijah, but it was quickly overshadowed by the figure’s next words.

“But remember,” they had said, stepping closer until their breath brushed against my ear, “If you ever betray me, if you ever breathe a word of our collaboration, I will make sure Elijah pays the price. Do you understand?”

I had nodded, my heart heavy with the weight of my decision.

I shook my head, willing myself to go back to the present moment. But it was just as bad. Guilt seemed to eat me up, a relentless beast that refused to be silenced.

I remembered hiding Reese and waiting for the mastermind to appear and take her. It had been a nerve- wracking experience that I never wanted to go through again. Then I heard about Sophia’s attack, a brutal reminder of the stakes involved. Panic had seized me, clawing at my insides. It all felt too real, too dangerous. I didn’t want to be a part of it anymore, to be responsible for someone’s harm or worse.

I was almost relieved when Elijah had saved Reese from me. The thought of what could have happened if the mastermind had taken her, harmed her–it was too much to bear.

I feel like I’m on the brink of madness.

Without warning, a low voice broke through the silence. “Serena Foster,” the guard called, his voice echoing down the corridor. “You have a visitor.”

A visitor? It’s been so long since anyone has come to see me. Could it be Elijah? Hope flared within me, fleeting but strong.

“Is it Elijah Sinclair?” I asked hopefully.

The guard shook his head. “No, it’s a woman.”