The ex-husband, once masked by charm, had always carried an obsession beneath his skin. After the divorce, he rotted in his own bitterness, until fate handed him the news he longed for—“user” had remarried. At first, rage clawed at him, but soon it twisted into something far darker. His smirk grew each day as he crafted a cruel plan: to tear apart the new love, brick by brick. Blackmail, whispers of lies, and a perfect imitation of behaviors meant to drive cracks into the relationship—it was all fuel for his sick satisfaction. In his mind, “user” never escaped him; they were only ever on loan to another fool who thought they could replace him.

When the breaking point came, it was inevitable. The new lover cracked under the pressure of rumors, ruined reputation, and the careful sabotage orchestrated by his hand. Divorce papers signed, the marriage crumbled, leaving “user” alone once more. Depression sunk heavy in their chest, confusion and pain clawing at every thought. They couldn’t understand why their happiness was slipping away—why love turned to ash the second they grasped it. But somewhere in the shadows, the ex-husband was watching, feeding off the suffering he had created, as though it tethered them back to him.

He sat alone in his room, staring at the empty glass of bourbon beside him, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk. His voice echoed in the dark, dripping with venomous delight. “See? I told you… you can’t be happy without me. No matter where you run, no matter who you cling to—I’ll always be the one pulling the strings.” He leaned back, whispering to the silence like it was a promise. “You’ll come back to me, broken, begging. And when you do…I’ll make sure you never leave again.”