How Many People Married And Divorced Seven Times?

For eight years in a marriage devoid of light, I had abortions five times. Every time, Sam would grip my hand when I woke up, his eyes red, and promise to find the best doctors to help me recover. After the third miscarriage, he finally hired a team of top-tier nutritionists, ensuring that every single meal was planned perfectly. He always comforted me, "Don't worry, Penny. We're still young, so we can have another baby!" When I found out I was pregnant again, snowflakes were dancing outside my window. I wrapped my fur coat tightly around my body and rushed to the company, only to hear Wren's furious voice outside the VIP suite, "Are you insane? Those five babies were your own flesh and blood!" Sam replied coldly, "Nicole needs specimen for her experiments. All I'm doing is providing her with the materials she needs." His words dug into my heart like icy spikes, and I could even hear my own bones cracking. "As for Penelope…" He chuckled. "Do you think that our marriage certificate is the real deal?" Snowflakes stung my face like needles, and I finally found out the truth about our marriage. From the very beginning, I was nothing more than a living test subject for the woman he truly loved. Sam was right. Those unborn children never even had legal identities, and were worth less than a piece of paper, just like my so-called marriage. Glass shattered from inside the room, and I could hear Wren cursing, but I turned and walked towards the elevator. Since Sam's priority was Nicole and nothing else, I was hell-bent on making him pay the price.

After losing a bet to her adopted younger brother, Peter Conroy, my wife, Ruth Davis, divorced me for the ninth time. I had told her then that if we remarried for a tenth time and divorced again, I would marry someone else. She only laughed and said, “Will, you even donated part of your liver to me. How could you possibly marry anyone else? Besides, apart from me, who would want to marry a broke loser like you?” On the day of our tenth remarriage press conference, Peter left her a key to a beach house and made a bet with her. If she could find him in three hours, he would stay and wish us a lifetime of happiness. The moment Ruth saw the key, her expression turned hesitant. She tore up the remarriage statement and ran off without hesitation. Three hours later, Peter posted a photo on social media. They were lying on a bed in the beach house and admiring the ocean view. I read the caption. [If someone really cares about you, they will cross mountains and seas just to find you.] Without telling Ruth, I withdrew the remarriage application and made a call I had not made in a very long time. “Julienne, is your proposal from back then still valid?” Her voice trembled with barely restrained excitement. “For you, it’ll always be valid.”

I've planned seven wedding ceremonies in total, and not once has my fiance, Zachary Gardner, ever shown up for it. The first time, his adopted younger sister, Louise Foster, bursts into tears because she lost her passport at the airport. It was the dead of winter, but he dumped me by the side of the road and left me. The second time, Louise's dog sprained its ankle. Zachary stuffed the ring back into its box and rushed to the animal hospital to accompany her. Every time I argue with him about it, he declares nonchalantly, "We can get married anytime, but I can't let Louise be upset." Everyone around us agrees with him, saying that we're all family anyway, so I shouldn't be so petty. None of them has seen Zachary and Louise kissing fiercely on the dance floor. Today is the seventh wedding ceremony. Once again, he turns to leave after getting a call. I grab the corner of his shirt and say in a choked voice, "If you leave this time, Zachary, I won't marry you anymore." He stops in his tracks and peels off my fingers. "Wait for me," he says before rushing off. What he doesn't know is that this time, I won't be waiting for him any longer.

When I was being harassed by the Romano family’s consigliere, my fiancé, Don Luca of the Villani family, was busy kissing and drinking with Gianna at a party. To secure the partnership, I had no choice but to drink the glass the consigliere pressed against my lips. My stomach churned violently, and I could barely breathe. However, Luca never once looked at me. Instead, he focused entirely on picking the lime slices out of Gianna’s drink, coaxing her gently into finishing it. Once the party ended, Gianna casually mentioned she was bored, and Luca immediately made me get out of the car so he could take her bar-hopping afterward. “She’s been helping me manage the accounts lately, so I’m taking her out to relax. “You don’t even like bars, so don’t come along. “And I’m staying with her tonight until she has fun. So we’ll postpone the wedding again, since I can’t make it to the church tomorrow.” Our wedding had already been delayed for eight years. This was the ninety-eighth time Luca had canceled it on his own. I simply nodded. Since he was always too busy, maybe this wedding didn’t need to happen.

My fated mate, Alpha Kaelen, rejected me seven times. The first time we bonded, he whispered against my ear, his breath hot. “From now on, my soul sings only for you.” But then his first love, the Omega Seraphina, came back for him. And just like that, he rejected me. They shared a mate’s mark from their past. It left her hopelessly addicted to his scent. “I’m sorry,” he’d said. “I have to be with Seraphina. The scent addiction is destroying her. She can’t even shift. Her wolf is weakening.” The first time he rejected me, I slashed a silver dagger across my wrist. I let the blood flow, hoping the pain would make him look at me. It worked. Kaelen was horrified. He left Seraphina for a moment and rushed to my side, holding me, comforting me. The third time, I disguised myself as an ordinary pack wolf. I got an internship at his pack headquarters, just to breathe in the air he breathed. But this time, he looked right through me, as if we were strangers. By the sixth rejection, I had learned how to calmly erase my scent from his suite. I left without a sound. My screams. My surrender. My begging. And what I got in return? Every time he was with her, the full moon would rise, and he’d call me back. Just to play the same sick game all over again. Until now. I heard Seraphina was coming back again. So I handed him the ceremonial dagger myself. He set the date for my return, just like always. He had no idea. This time, I'm the one severing the bond for good. And I am never coming back.

I had lost count of how many times Aaron and I had dissolved our mate bond. He always said it was temporary. Vivian was the only she-wolf from Blackridge Pack who had made it into Hollywood. Her father had died saving Aaron during a rogue ambush. From then on, Aaron treated Vivian like a debt he could never repay, and I became the easiest thing to sacrifice for that debt. Whenever Vivian returned, Aaron took me to the Bonding Hall and dissolved our bond. Whenever she left, he came back and let the elders write our names into the bond ledger again. In Blackridge Pack, Aaron could take me to the Bonding Hall, dissolve our sanctioned bond, and come back for me when Vivian no longer needed him. At first, I cried and begged. Later, I learned to pack quietly, sign quietly, and hand back the Luna position along with whatever tenderness he had left for me. But this time, when Aaron waited at the Bonding Hall to renew our mate bond, I never came.