Dear Husband, I Don’t Love You Anymore! Novel – “Rufus, when are you going to divorce her? You promised me.” “Soon, baby. She’s still grieving our dead daughter.” That’s how I found out. My husband. The man everyone fears. The mafia boss who once swore he’d give me his life, was doing something unearthy with his best friend’s sister. The bed. The couch. Even next to my anniversary gifts. And when I confronted him? He smiled at me like nothing was wrong.
Slipped a diamond bracelet on my wrist and said, “Happy anniversary, sweetheart.” To the world, Rufus is the perfect husband but to me? To me, he’s a liar. So I made a choice… Thirteen days. That’s all I need. My immigration papers will be ready. And I’ll be gone. “Annette, I’ll only ever love you.” “If I betray you, may lightning strike me dead.” Funny. He said that while still reeking of her perfume.
Six months later, he found me. His face twisted with fury. “Annette! You’re my wife! How could you do it with someone else?” I only smiled, sweet and sharp. “I was never yours. You just rented my soul until you broke it.” — My husband slept with his best friend’s sister. Not once, not twice but multiple times and he even brought her into our home. The bed, the couch, the kitchen counter. He told me he only loved me, yet his body told a different story.
I didn’t even have to imagine it. I heard her voice with my own ears. “Rufus, when are you going to divorce her? You promised me.” “Soon, baby. Not now. She’s still grieving to our dead daughter.” “Poor thing. Having a mother like her… no wonder. But don’t worry, I’ll give you a child soon. I’ll get pregnant.” “I’m counting on it.” “But tell me the truth. Do you really love her, your wife Annette?” “Yes. I love her.” My husband, the man everyone in this city whispered about… the cold, dangerous boss of the Anderson family… still had the audacity to speak about love while touching another woman.
Thirteen days. That’s all I needed. My immigration papers would be ready by then. So I went to the consulate and filed my application. “Hello, I’m here to apply for immigration,” I said at the counter, handing over my paperwork. The clerk glanced at me, stamped everything quickly, and slid a receipt across. “Your application will be processed in thirteen days, ma’am. Please wait patiently.” I nodded and walked out.
Behind me, I caught the sound of murmuring. “Did I hear right? Mrs. Anderson applied for immigration?” “She’s leaving the country? But Mr. Anderson dotes on her more than anyone. What could’ve happened?” “Remember that wedding seven years ago? Biggest event in the city. Three years ago when she got into that car accident, he gave her half his blood. Last year she went missing for an hour, and he turned the city upside down looking for her.
And now she’s leaving him?” I let out a quiet laugh, the kind that doesn’t reach the eyes. Yes. Everyone knew how much Rufus “doted” on me. To the outside world, I was the only woman he cared for. He was ruthless to everyone else, untouchable, feared even by his own men. But for me, he was all fireworks, diamonds, and sweet words. I still remember how it started. He saw me once at a party and decided I was it for him.
He sent gifts, luxury cars, even put on a three-day fireworks show that lit up the whole city. When I casually mentioned I liked chestnut cake, he drove through a snowstorm all night to bring one to me. He was drenched, lips blue from the cold, but the cake was still warm when he pressed it into my hands. And when my parents died in that accident, he abandoned a billion-worth deal in New York to rush back to me.
He found me shaking, hollow, broken. He pulled me into his arms and whispered, “Annette, I’m here. I’ll always be by your side.” Back then, I thought he was my safe place. My Mr. Right. I gave him my whole heart. But love doesn’t stop men like Rufus from straying. Nine months ago, temptation knocked, and he answered. His best friend’s sister, of all people. He thought I’d never find out. But secrets don’t stay buried forever. We had just sent our 2-year-old daughter to heaven when I saw the truth… When I smelled her perfume on our couch, when I pieced together the lies… I knew I was done.
Rufus can play his games, charm the world, and tell me a thousand sweet lies. But this time, I won’t stay. I slipped my visa papers into my bag, flagged a cab, and told the driver to take me to Ruffus Anderson Estates. The moment I walked into the villa, something hit me. A strange, heavy smell clung to the air, sweet and bitter all at once. My stomach twisted. And then I saw them.
Rufus was standing on a ladder, pinning decorations to the wall. Beside him, Maisie Smith smiled like she owned the place. When the door clicked shut behind me, Rufus turned. His hands froze mid-air, then he came down slowly, carefully. The cold mafia boss everyone feared disappeared in an instant. His eyes softened, his lips curved into that practiced smile that used to melt me. “Annette, ba