My Ex-Husband Cries for a Second Chance
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Dedicated three years to marriage, I shed the aura of the genius venture queen, pouring all my connections and resources into helping Simon Coldridge, who had nothing, ascend to the position of CEO. I thought this was a testament to our love, until that stormy night when he hung up on my call for help, yet gently opened the car door and styled the hair of the poor student I had funded.
When I confronted him, he disdainfully said, “You’re Mrs. Coldridge. Don’t take her seriously.” He might have thought I would continue to tolerate it like before. When I threw my ten-carat wedding ring into the trash and withdrew funding from the project he valued most, he finally understood that the Aurora Montague who loved him to the point of losing herself was already dead.
When I confronted him, he disdainfully said, “You’re Mrs. Coldridge. Don’t take her seriously.” He might have thought I would continue to tolerate it like before. When I threw my ten-carat wedding ring into the trash and withdrew funding from the project he valued most, he finally understood that the Aurora Montague who loved him to the point of losing herself was already dead.














































