How Does 'To Norma Jeane With Love, Jimmie' End?

My father lies on a hospital bed, barely breathing as he asks to see my husband once more. However, my husband's phone is turned off that day. I hurry to his company to look for him, but his secretary stops me and tells me there's a company policy that says they don't allow me and dogs to enter. I kneel before the building and beg for help, but someone records me and twists the truth. Later, I watch the video and see Eugene Fort carrying his true love, who's cut her finger, into the car. My father ultimately dies without seeing Eugene. I stay up all night to handle the wake and funeral. The following day, I finally receive a call from Eugene. He sounds impatient as he says, "Come to the hospital. Ivy needs help."

When I caught Christian Helmley cheating on me for the tenth time, he dragged his lover over without any hesitation and let me decide her fate. When I caught him cheating for the 28th time, he cried and groveled and begged for my forgiveness. The man went so far as to curse his bloodline for that. By the ninety-eighth time, nothing he did could touch me anymore. I was numb. All I did was crouch beyond the door of his study while he and his lover were going at it like animals. Then it was the last time I caught him cheating. He came back and kissed me right after sleeping with another woman. One day before I left, he barged in with a crying girl in his arms. Christian berated me, accusing me of killing his son. "I can't believe you! You're not the woman I know!" He pressed the tip of a fountain pen against my belly, and I forced my tears back. "I don't want any other woman carrying my children. I only want Jasmine! God, can you stop being possessive for one second? You're practically a hag now, Natasha. Pull this again, and I'll send you to an asylum!" All that elicited from me was a bitter smile. I had no strength left to argue. "Yes, yes, I envy her. She took my husband from me, but I guess I should say goodbye and bless your relationship on the way out now." Then I jumped into the rolling sea right before his eyes. Only one thought remained in my mind. 'That's the last of the love I had for you, Christian.'

Tony Gambino never forgave me. His childhood sweetheart died saving my life, and for seven years, his hatred was a constant, silent burn. I fasted. I prayed. I begged for absolution. He met my penance with a cold sneer. "I'll only forgive you when you're dead." The words were a knife to the heart. So why, when we were both poisoned, did he shove the only antidote down my throat? As the poison claimed him, blood trickling from his lips, he choked out his last words, "Scarlett... in our next life, let's never meet." Later, I tried to visit his grave. His sworn brother and Consigliere, Richard Bruno, blocked my path. He pressed a gun to my forehead. "I don't know how you have the nerve to show your face here, Scarlett. He'd be alive if he hadn't saved you. "I should never have let him give up Elma for you. You're a curse. Everyone who gets close to you gets destroyed." Their eyes were unanimous in their blame. And they were right. So I watched his gravesite from a distance, my own guilt a heavier stone than any marker. Not long after, I was killed in a gang crossfire. When I opened my eyes, I was seven years in the past. This time, I made a different choice: I let Tony go—so that everyone might live.

When I got into a car accident, my wife was busy taking care of her first love. As I lay dying, I begged her for help, but she just sneered coldly. "Serves you right for getting hit. You wouldn't even lend Dustin the money for his treatment." I'd explained it to her so many times. Dustin Graeme was a gambling addict—his "illness" was just an excuse to fund his habit. But she never believed me. "Cut the crap, Jim," she said. "If you don't hand over the money in three days, we're done. A selfish, heartless man like you doesn't deserve a wife." Lying in a pool of blood, I slowly curled my lips into a smile. "Fine. Let's get a divorce. I don't want a woman like you either."

After an argument with my wife, Joan Newman, I momentarily stepped out of the car to pick up a package. When I returned, our son, Jimmy Newman, was gone. From that moment, I searched for him like a madman. Each waking hour was consumed by guilt. My mother-in-law blamed me. My mother cried herself to sleep. Joan jabbed a finger at my head and screamed, “Why are you still alive? If you don’t find our son, I’m divorcing you!” From that day forward, for four long years, I gave up my career and my life. I traveled across the country almost a hundred times searching for my son, only to be met with disappointment every single time. My body became covered in scars from self-harm. I fell into severe depression. By the hundredth trip, I could no longer summon the will to face another defeat. I swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills. As death closed in, I heard Joan talking to her childhood friend, Randy Kilk. “Joan, you’ve tormented him long enough. When are you going to tell Steven that the boy was never missing? I can’t wait to see the look on his face.” Joan laughed and casually said, “There’s no hurry. He forced me to abort our child, so now, he is suffering the consequences. When he finally understands his sins, I may consider telling him.” So, the inhuman torment I had endured for four years had been nothing more than her punishment. As a final tear rolled down my cheek, my soul left my body. Joan, you got exactly what you wanted.

Lawrence Hale has been Julia Ware's assistant and lover for seven years, but she's now getting engaged to someone else. She calls off their engagement during an auction, and he thinks she wants to propose to him. It's only when a face that looks almost identical to him shows up that he realizes he's never been more than a replacement.