When Love No Longer Finds Me, Will I Be Happy?

Introduction: Modern + sadomasochism + love + domineering president In this modern city, two hearts begin to intertwine, but they are destined to experience joys and sorrows. Isabella loved him deeply, but was framed and imprisoned by him and her sister, and suffered all kinds of hardships. However, fate still took pity on Isabella after all. "Fortunately I no longer love you" is a sadomaso chistic novel that reveals the bitterness and warmth of modern love through Isabella's growth and experiences. In the bustling city, they traveled through dreamy time and faced the cruelty of parting, but they also discovered the sincere beauty in life. This is a melody of love and pain, leaving the afterglow of parting and blooming in the depths of the soul forever.

Growing up in a broken home and opposite a married couple who did nothing but fight, Diana Young swore off marriage and everything to do with it. People say that love ends when marriage starts and since marriage is love's destination, it was kind of ironic. But Diana believed it was all the bit true.Everyone's disappointed at the pot of gold that is not found at the end of the rainbow. Love was like that, she thought. A disappointment. Perhaps she just needed the right person to show her the real pot of gold. What is really found at the end of love, because maybe, just maybe, love doesn't end at all.

After four years of marriage, I decide to get a divorce. Why? Because my wife doesn't love me. She loves her childhood sweetheart. I disappear after leaving behind a divorce agreement—I give her my blessings in her search for true love. But after I'm gone, she searches the world for me like she's lost her mind.

I married the same man seven times. He had divorced me seven times for his first love, just so he could spend vacations with her freely, and so she wouldn't have to deal with rumors or gossip. The first time we divorced, I tried to stop him by hurting myself. I ended up in the hospital, but he didn't even come to see me. The second time, I lowered myself to apply as his assistant at his company, just so I could see him more. By the sixth divorce, I had already learned to pack my things quietly and leave our apartment without a fuss. My meltdowns, my constant giving in, and my numb compromises only led to one thing: him coming back to marry me on schedule, and repeating the same old games. Until now. When I heard that his first love was returning to the country, I handed him the divorce papers first. As usual, he made a plan to remarry me later, but this time, he had no idea that I was leaving for good.

I know that I don't have much time left after getting poisoned by wolfsbane. I don't want to have any regrets, so I travel to the Sacred Crystal Lake, a place I have always wanted to visit. I don't tell anyone that I plan to end my life there. I didn't expect to run into my ex-mate there. We haven't seen each other in ten years. He has become the Alpha that he has always wanted to be, and he's wearing a ring that has another she-wolf's name engraved on it. As for me, I've already thrown away our token of love and erased him from my heart. We're exchanging pleasantries when he suddenly asks, "Do you still hate me, Giselle?" I shake my head. My life is about to end, after all. I don't need to hold on to anything anymore. In the last moments of my life, I just want to see the sea of irises that the Moon Goddess has blessed.

It has been fifty-five days since my fiancé cut me off. I called off the wedding I'd waited eight long years for. All while he was caring for his childhood sweetheart, who was battling depression and seeking peace at a remote retreat. He even had the historic chapel—a local landmark called the Aethelred Sanctuary—closed to the public for six months because of her. And me? I was left to face the swarming reporters, hounded from one place to the next until I had nowhere left to hide—all because he disappeared without a word. Out of options, I went to the retreat to find him. But he turned me away, saying I would disturb the quiet and sanctity of the place. In the bitter cold of deep winter, I collapsed outside the gates, barely holding on. When I woke, I saw him—Jonathan—planting an entire garden of roses on the grounds, every bloom a declaration of love. Six months later, he finally left and returned home with his childhood sweetheart. The roses they had planted now filled what was supposed to be our wedding venue, from floor to ceiling. I watched them, cold and unmoved. What he didn't know was this—I was already engaged to someone else.