STUCK WITH MY BEST-FREIND'S DAD (Revenge On My Cheating Ex-Husband)

VIONNE'S POV

I stood at the edge of our bedroom, my arms crossed tightly over my chest as I watched him. My heart was pounding, but not the way it used to when I looked at him.

Not with love or warmth or hope. This pounding felt heavy. Cold. Like every beat was trying to push the pain out of me.

Harrison Worthington. The man I once thought was my forever. The same man who was now zipping up his suitcase like he couldn't wait to leave.

My husband.

My soon-to-be ex-husband.

I didn't even feel like I was standing in my own body. I was watching this scene unfold like it was a movie, like someone else's life was falling apart. But the ache in my chest reminded me this was mine. Every second of it.

He didn't say a word as he folded his clothes neatly into the suitcase, each motion calm and calculated. There wasn't a single sign of regret or hesitation. Just cold, sharp silence.

The air between us felt suffocating.

"I loved you with everything I had," I said, my voice thick and bitter. It shook with the effort it took to keep myself together. I barely recognized the sound. It was cracked, broken. Tired. "But you betrayed me. You cheated on me-with her? With Nora?"

I didn't mean to say her name with so much disgust, but I couldn't help it. My stepsister. The woman who had once shared birthday cakes and Christmas dinners with me. The one who stood beside me at my wedding and toasted to our love.

Now she was the reason my marriage was ending.

He still didn't look at me. His hands moved like machines, folding one shirt after another, placing them inside the suitcase with perfect precision. As if my entire world wasn't falling apart just two feet away from him.

"You should sign the papers, Vionne ," he said finally. His voice was cold. Lifeless. "I left them on the bed."

I turned my eyes to the manila envelope resting on the perfectly made bed. I hadn't even noticed it there before. The words DIVORCE AGREEMENT were stamped on it like a death sentence.

"I've made my decision," he added, adjusting the collar of a shirt before tucking it in. "Nora is the one I want. She makes me feel alive again."

His words hit harder than I expected. Like someone yanked the ground from beneath me. My knees wobbled, and I grabbed the edge of the dresser to keep from collapsing.

He chose her. Not me. Not the woman he vowed to love and protect.

My throat tightened, my vision blurred, but I refused to cry in front of him. I wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

"You're in love with my stepsister?" I whispered. The words tasted like ash.

That's when he finally looked at me.

And what I saw in his eyes chilled me to the bone.

Nothing.

No sadness. No guilt. Not even anger. Just emptiness.

"Yes," he said, blinking slowly. "I love her."

I couldn't breathe. My chest was caving in, my lungs refusing to work properly. But I stood my ground.

"You disgust me," I said through clenched teeth. "I gave you my heart. My body. My future. And this is how you thank me?"

He didn't flinch. "You stopped being a wife a long time ago, Vionne ."

That was it. The moment everything broke.

"You're unbelievable," I whispered. "You think I stopped being a wife because I couldn't give you a child?"

He tilted his head slightly, like my words didn't mean anything to him. Like I was making a scene for no reason.

"You're barren, Vionne ," he said bluntly. His voice didn't even have an edge. Just a flat, cruel truth. "We've tried for three years. Nothing. Nora gives me hope. She wants a family. She can give me one."

Barren.

That word echoed in my ears like a scream.

I felt like throwing something. Smashing every picture frame, every memory we ever built. But I stood frozen, held together by the last bit of pride I had left.

"You think I chose this?" I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Do you think I wanted to be poked and prodded, to take hormone shots, to sit in cold hospital rooms while they told me I was the problem?"

Still, nothing. No remorse. No kindness.

"You don't need to explain," he said flatly. "This is done. I've moved on."

I took a shaky step back, as if putting distance between us would dull the pain.

"I hope she ruins you," I said, my voice trembling but full of truth. "I hope she tears you apart the way you tore me."

His jaw clenched for a brief second. It was the only sign of emotion I got out of him.

"You cheated with the one person you knew would hurt me the most," I said. "You didn't just end our marriage-you crushed it. You spit on it."

"You destroyed yourself when you stopped trying," he snapped. "I needed someone. Nora was there. She listens. She cares. She doesn't make me feel like I'm drowning every day."

That's when my hand flew.

The slap was loud, echoing in the quiet room. My palm stung from the impact, but I didn't care. He deserved it. Every inch of it.

He didn't hit back. He didn't even move. Just stared at me with those lifeless eyes.

"Get out," I choked. "Now."

"Gladly." He zipped the suitcase in one swift motion and lifted it off the bed. "Send the signed papers to my lawyer."

And just like that, he left.

No final words. No last look. The door closed behind him, and the silence that followed felt like death.

I collapsed onto the floor, the weight of everything crushing me. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hold the pieces together, but it was useless. I was shattered.

The bedroom smelled like him-his cologne, his aftershave. The scent of betrayal.

I sat there for hours, unable to move. My eyes were dry, but my heart cried louder than any sob could. I stared into space, my mind replaying every good moment we ever had. All of them now tainted.

Eventually, my eyes found the wedding photo on the nightstand.

I reached for it with trembling hands. We looked so happy. So in love. His smile was wide, his eyes full of warmth. I remember thinking he looked at me like I was his entire world.

Now I knew it was all a lie.

I stared at that picture until it blurred.

Then, without thinking, I threw it across the room

VIONNE'S POV

I had barely slept. My head throbbed from the tears I refused to let fall, and my body felt heavy, like I'd aged years in one night. But I couldn't hide in this house forever.

I had to face my family eventually.

And more importantly, I had to face her.

Nora.

My stepsister. My friend. The woman who smiled in my childhood pictures, who helped me with prom makeup, who cried during my wedding speech, pretending to be happy for me.

All a lie.

She didn't just take my husband, she took my peace, my confidence, my sense of home. And today, I needed answers.

I rose to my feet slowly, ignoring the stiffness in my legs. I walked to the closet, standing there for a long time, just staring. Everything inside reminded me of the life I no longer had dresses Harrison complimented, shoes we picked out together, the scarf he bought me in Paris.

I reached for a long-sleeved navy-blue dress. It hugged my waist just enough, modest but flattering. I brushed out my hair, letting it fall softly over my shoulders, and applied light makeup to cover the puffiness under my eyes.

I wasn't dressing up for him or for her. I needed to look like myself again, at least on the outside.

When I walked into the kitchen, my heels clicking against the tiles, I almost fooled myself into believing I was okay. The kettle was where it always sat. The sunlight hit the counter just right. Everything looked the same. But nothing felt the same.

My phone buzzed the moment I picked up my purse.

I glanced down, expecting maybe a message from my mother asking if I was still coming by. Instead, it was from an unknown number.

One single message.

No words.

Just a picture.

I froze as my eyes locked on the image.

It was Harrison and Nora. In the park. Holding hands.

She was in a flowy white dress, laughing at something he had said. He was gazing at her like she was the only person in the world. Like how he used to look at me. Her hand rested on his chest, their fingers intertwined like they belonged that way.

My stomach twisted.

Below the photo was a location pin. I recognized the park immediately. We used to walk there on Sundays. Feed the ducks. Talk about having kids.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips.

I should've ignored it. I should've gone to my parents' house like I planned. Pretended like I was better than this.

But I wasn't.

I grabbed my keys with shaking hands and walked straight to the car.

I didn't even realize I was speeding until I hit the red light two blocks from the park. My fingers tightened around the steering wheel, my heart beating so loudly I could hear it echo in my ears.

What was I doing?

What was I hoping to see? To scream? To fight?

No. I wasn't that woman. I didn't want to be that woman.

Still, I turned into the park entrance, rolling slowly down the path until I found a spot to pull over. The picture wasn't a lie. They were there. Just like the image had shown.

Only worse.

They were sitting on the bench, the one near the big oak tree we carved our initials into years ago. He had his arm around her. She leaned into him with a soft smile, one hand resting on her stomach like-

No.

No, please no.

Was she really pregnant not a lie made up?

I squinted through the windshield, trying to steady my breathing. Maybe it was just the way she sat, the dress, the angle. Or maybe it was nothing at all and my mind was playing cruel tricks on me.

But it felt like the final blow.

I wanted to scream. To run over there, pull her up by the arm and ask her how she could do this to me. How she could sleep in my bed, wear my ring, pretend to be my family and then steal everything I loved.

But I didn't move.

I couldn't.

I just sat there, hands gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white.

Tears blurred my vision, but I blinked them away, refusing to let them fall. I wouldn't cry in front of them. Not again.

From this angle, they looked perfect. Like a couple in a movie. Happy. Soft. Content. And for a moment, I hated how peaceful they looked. How untouched they seemed by the wreckage they left behind.

It wasn't fair.

I had loved Harrison. Truly. With everything I had. I stood by him through job stress, family fights, infertility, loss after loss. I gave him every piece of me. I let him see the ugliest parts, and still, I stayed. I tried.

But it wasn't enough.

I wasn't enough.

I wiped my face with the back of my hand and reached for my purse. My fingers brushed against the divorce papers, still unsigned. I had planned to talk to Nora today, maybe hear her side, demand an explanation that might ease the pain even a little.

But now I knew better.

There was no explanation that would fix this.

No apology that could undo what I just saw.

I took one last look at them through the window. Nora leaned her head on his shoulder, and he kissed her forehead gently. That used to be my comfort. My safe place.

But not anymore.

It belonged to her now.

I pulled away from the curb and drove home in silence. No music. No noise. Just the hum of the engine and the sound of my heart breaking all over again.

By the time I stepped back into the house, the sun was lower in the sky. Shadows stretched across the floor, cold and quiet. My heels echoed on the hardwood as I walked straight to the table, divorce papers in hand.

I stared at them for a long time.

The lines, the spaces, the signatures.

Harrison had already signed. Neatly. Quickly. Like it was just another contract. Just another task to complete before moving on to a better life.

I pulled out a pen and signed my name at the bottom.

'Vionne Wallace.'

VIONNE'S POV

After signing those papers.

I thought there would be some kind of relief, some kind of freedom in finally letting go of Harrison. But instead, I felt nothing. Just this numb weight sitting on my chest, pressing into my lungs, making it hard to breathe.

It was past eight when I finally picked up my phone. Maddie's name sat at the top of my recent calls.

I pressed dial.

She picked up immediately. "Vionne ?"

The moment I heard her voice, the dam inside me broke again.

"He left," I said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. "He really left."

"Oh, honey..."

I could hear her shift, maybe sitting up or grabbing her keys. "Tell me everything."

So I did.

Everything from the moment Harrison dropped the envelope on the bed, to the photo, to the park, to signing the divorce papers. I tried to stay calm, to sound strong. But Maddie heard the cracks in my voice.

And she didn't sugarcoat her response.

"Your stepsister is a snake," she said bluntly. "And Harrison is a fool. You didn't deserve any of that."

I closed my eyes. "I feel so stupid. I kept thinking I wasn't enough. That I failed."

"You didn't fail anything," Maddie snapped. "You were married to a liar. You gave your heart to someone who didn't deserve it. That's not failure. That's love. He was the one who failed, not you."

I swallowed hard, biting my lip to hold back the fresh wave of emotion. "I just... I don't know what to do now."

There was a pause on the other end before she said, "Come out with me tonight."

I blinked. "What?"

"I'm serious," she said. "Let's go out. Just us. You need a change of scene, some loud music, maybe a drink-or five. You can't stay in that house crying over him forever. He's not worth it."

I hesitated.

Going out? I didn't even feel like putting on pants, much less makeup.

"I don't know if I'm ready-"

"No one's ever ready," she cut in gently. "But sometimes you have to fake it. Just for one night. Be Vionne before Harrison. The Vionne I remember. Strong. Beautiful. Wild."

I let out a small, shaky laugh. "I was never wild."

"Well, maybe it's time to start."

I didn't say yes, but an hour later, I found myself standing in front of the mirror, slipping on a deep burgundy dress I hadn't worn in years. It hugged my curves, dipped low in the back, and made me feel something I hadn't in a long time-alive.

I put on light makeup, added a little mascara, and gave my hair some loose waves. It wasn't much, but when I looked at myself in the mirror, I almost didn't recognize the woman staring back.

Maybe that was the point.

By the time I stepped outside, Maddie's car was already waiting in the driveway. She rolled down the window and whistled when she saw me.

"Damn, girl. You look like sin and sorrow wrapped in silk."

I laughed for real this time. "You're ridiculous."

She winked. "Ridiculously right. Now get in."

We drove with the windows down and music blaring. She talked the whole time, filling the silence with stories from work, gossip from mutual friends, and the time she nearly got arrested for slapping her ex at a wedding.

"And I swear," she said, taking a sharp turn, "if I ever see Harrison in public, I'll throw my drink in his face. No hesitation."

"You don't have to do that."

"I want to. He deserves to feel half the shame he dumped on you."

I glanced out the window, my smile fading just a little. "What if he doesn't feel any shame?"

She was quiet for a moment before reaching over to squeeze my hand. "Then you walk away knowing you were always better than him."

We pulled up in front of a bar I didn't recognize-dark lights, thumping music, and a long line of people outside.

"Don't worry," Maddie said, dragging me by the hand. "I know the bouncer."

Of course she did.

Inside, the music hit me like a wave-loud and electric. People moved on the dance floor like they were chasing something. The air was thick with perfume, laughter, and spilled liquor.

We made our way to the bar, and Maddie ordered shots before I could protest.

"To freedom," she said, holding hers up.

I clinked my glass against hers, and we knocked them back.

One shot turned into two.

Two into four.

We danced. We laughed. For a while, I forgot. I let go. I let Maddie pull me into the crowd, let strangers brush past me, let the beat vibrate in my chest until it drowned out everything else.

But the peace didn't last long.

Around midnight, Maddie's phone lit up. Her face changed instantly.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

She showed me the screen. "My little sister just got into a car accident. Nothing major, but I need to go check on her. She's freaking out."

"Go," I said immediately. "She needs you."

Maddie bit her lip. "You'll be okay?"

I nodded. "I'll order a cab. I just need a few minutes."

She hesitated but gave me a tight hug. "Text me the second you get home. I mean it."

"I will."

And then she was gone.

I turned back to the bar, sitting down with a soft sigh. The room spin just a little, but I felt strangely calm. Hollow, but calm.

That's when I noticed someone slide into the seat next to me.

He didn't speak right away. Just leaned over the counter to get the bartender's attention. His voice was deep, smooth.

"Whiskey. Double."

He turned to me then, his eyes dark and unreadable. Handsome in a way that made my stomach flutter, not polished like Harrison, but rough around the edges, with stubble on his jaw and a faint scar above his brow.

"Is this seat taken?" he asked.

I shook my head.

"Rough night?" he said, nodding toward the drink in my hand.

I gave him a tired smile. "Something like that."

He took a sip of his whiskey, eyes still on mine. "Want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Fair."

There was a pause. Then he said, "I'm Ethan."

"Vionne ."

We talked. Nothing deep. He told me about his job, how he hated Mondays, and how he once set his kitchen on fire trying to cook pasta.

I laughed more than I expected to.

Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the pain. Or maybe it was the way he looked at me-like I was interesting, like he didn't know anything about my past and didn't care.

Somewhere between our third drink and a shared plate of fries, I realized I was leaning closer.

So was he.

And before I could stop it, his lips found mine.