The Script Of My Marriage

The Garcia family's notorious illegitimate son — violent, obsessive, and dangerously unstable — had sent out a public marriage summons. One of us, my sister or I, was to become his bride. My father, with his career in ruins and his influence dwindling, had no choice but to agree. In desperation, I begged my boyfriend Eric Jordan to return home and make our engagement official. He did rush back, travel-worn and anxious — but only to ask for my sister's hand in marriage. Shattered, I demanded to know why. Eric frowned, his voice icy. "You're just a foster daughter of the Lynch family. You've eaten their food, lived under their roof for years. And if it weren't for Willa, you would've frozen to death on the street. Now's your chance to repay her. Don't be ungrateful." I refused to stay silent. He shoved me aside in frustration. "I told you — Willa and I are only pretending. Once she's out of danger and that lunatic forgets about the proposal, we'll divorce. I'll come back for you. However, stop embarrassing yourself like this — it's pathetic." What Eric did not know was… Willa Lynch escaped the marriage. However, I did not. Later, on the day of the wedding, as the bridal car passed the Jordan family estate, I looked out the window — and locked eyes with Eric. His face turned pale as a sheet.

Five years into my quest to conquer the male lead, Patrick Suede forgot my birthday once again. Instead, the villainess texted me, “So what if it’s your birthday? He came crawling to me at the snap of my fingers. For once, I didn’t take the System’s suggestion to break down. I replied, “Thank you. You’re the only one who remembered my birthday today.” The response back was a big question mark. My phone kept going off with notifications. “Seriously. Were you meant to send that to someone else? “Are you for real? That’s kind of sad. “What do you want for your birthday? “Forget it. I’m coming over. Since you can’t eat mangoes, I’ll get you a strawberry cake. “Honestly, you’re a handful.” … When my doorbell rang, I grinned at the System. “The mission is to romance the main character of this world. You never said it had to be a guy.”

I only meant to spite my ex. I didn’t mean to blow up my entire life. Catching my boyfriend cheating backstage was the script from hell. Kissing the first guy I saw to prove I didn't care? That was just bad acting. But I didn't know the "stranger" was Cole Donovan, the campus’s resident tech genius who’s about as emotional as a calculator. Now, a video of that kiss is sitting in my mother’s inbox. She’s gone from "divorced" to "devout," and if I don't prove this mystery guy is my serious, respectable boyfriend, she’s pulling my tuition. I have forty-eight hours to track down a man I don't know, convince him to lie to my mother, and hope he doesn't realize how desperate I actually am. But Cole Donovan doesn't do favors, and he definitely doesn't do drama. I’m an actress, but this is one role I never rehearsed for. And if I can’t convince the campus’s coldest genius to play along, my mother is pulling me out of theater, and my dream is over before the final curtain.

Once upon a time, she had been Elsa, the queen of the acting world, all that had changed when she retired to her married to Gabriel Lockwood. When she discovers her husband is cheating on her and even plans to divorce her, she is heartbroken and decides it's time for a new start in her life. Will she go back to acting and take her crown again? What happens when she has enemies, which includes her ex husband, who do not want her taking back that crown. And is Asher, her long time friend who recently came back into her life, being genuine with her? Read to find out.

I started calling my brother "Mr. Quinn" and my childhood friend "Mr. Webb". They frown and ask why I'm being so formal with them. I smile faintly in response. "Because I think you would rather be associated with Vanessa Quinn." They scold me for being unreasonable. "Vanessa is about to marry a man in a coma for you, and her whole life will be ruined. The only reason we treat her so well is because you owe her." But what they don't know is that the one marrying a man in a coma this time isn't Vanessa. It's me—Willow Quinn.

After three years of marriage, I believed I had the perfect family. My wife, Sarah, was gentle and caring, and our son was bright and adorable. On a rare day when I finished work early, I arrived home to find Sarah asleep, slumped tiredly by the crib. My heart went out to her, and I decided to carry her to our bedroom. As I approached, Sarah's phone screen suddenly lit up. A message appeared: “Sarah, is our son asleep?"