1945 pulitzer winning

I crave excitement in my life. To do that, I send my deskmate a video of me pleasing myself with a toy. Bit by bit, it awakens his desires…

The Langston brothers once vowed that they wouldn't marry anyone but me. However, when it's time for me to pick one of them as my husband, they both turn me down. Nigel says, "My career is my priority. I'm not considering marriage at the moment." Shawn says, "Sorry, but I haven't had enough fun yet." Shortly after, they make my asthma act up during my engagement party just so they can please their new princess. As I writhe from the lack of oxygen, they cover her eyes so she won't see. They also mock me, saying I won't die from this. That kills me inside. When I wake up in the hospital, I call my father. "I'll marry the heir of the Blackwell family."

Nine years into my "non-cohabiting partnership" with Simon, his father passed away. The first condition in his will was simple: Simon and Ella had to conceive a child. On the day the child turned one month old, Simon would inherit his father's fortune. Simon told me this himself—the night I walked in on them tangled in our bed. Afterward, as he took a slow drag from his cigarette, he murmured, "Lily, just wait a little longer. Once I get the inheritance, I'll marry you." But he went back on his word. From then on, every time Simon planned to meet Ella at our house, he would hang a string of bells on the door. Since his father's passing, those bells had chimed ninety-nine times. After the ninety-ninth, the news arrived—Ella was pregnant, and their engagement party was set. My daughter saw the invitation, hesitated, then softly asked, "Mom, is Daddy's name on this?" I forced a smile and gently smoothed her messy hair into a neat ponytail. "Daddy is marrying the one he loves," I said. "And I'm taking you home." Simon never understood—I never cared about that marriage certificate.

After an accident and miscarriage, Hansel Saddler and I are so devastated that we're both diagnosed with depression. For the next five years, I try my best to act like I'm normal as I care for him and try to cheer him up. This lasts until I overhear him speaking to the psychologist at the clinic's door. "Work's been getting busy lately, and pretending to be depressed makes it inconvenient to deal with that. Can you change my diagnosis to manic disorder?" The psychologist giggles. "You have been quite manic lately, darling. You've been making me feel really sore down there." "I can make you feel even more sore now." Then, I hear moans and groans. It turns out everything I've done over the past five years is nothing but a joke. I pull up my conversation with Colin Foster. "I agree to undergo secluded treatment deep in the mountains abroad."

My boyfriend, Christopher Linden, was short of 20 thousand dollars for his medical treatment. To get the money as soon as possible, I participated in a rich man's game onboard a lavish cruise. I didn't bat an eye as I jumped into the ocean to search for a bracelet one of their female companions had dropped in the water. As I choked on the ocean water, I heard the man in the lead mock me, saying, "I've seen plenty of the dirty things people are willing to do for money, but you take the cake. You're even willing to give up your life for it." Someone teased, "Your girlfriend doesn't like money and is willing to forgo everything to care for you. Do you love her?" He snorted. "She's just a peasant from the countryside; I'm only fooling around with her. You have no idea how coarse her hands are—they disgust me whenever she touches me. How could I possibly fall for her?" I turned ashen at his words. He was Christopher, who was supposed to be wheelchair-bound. He was also supposed to be too broke for surgery. The peasant from the countryside he was talking about was me.

Despite a decade of marriage, Simon never once shared my bed, claiming that he had pledged himself to ascetic practices and that it was beneath him. I thought that he suffered from some shameful ailment and guarded his secret like a devoted fool, until my birthday, when I came home to find him entangled with a brothel worker before the floor-length mirror. When I lunged forward in rage, he drove a shard of that broken mirror straight through my heart. When I awoke, I was gripping my phone, its screen illuminating a message Simon had just sent: [I’ll still give you a lavish wedding, but the marriage certificate? That belongs to her.]

It's my third wedding anniversary with Eanes Lambert. However, he and his childhood sweetheart put on a public display of affection on their social media. "My heart beats for you and you only." I like the post and share it, but the original post is immediately deleted. Later, Eanes calls me to tell me off. "I was just comforting her because she was in a bad mood. Do you have to be so petty? What else can you do other than get jealous of others?" The next second, I receive a photo of him and his childhood sweetheart kissing passionately. She's the one who's sent it to me. In the past, I would've stormed over there to kick up a fuss. Now, however, I merely choose to leave Eanes. I'll let him have what he wants.

"Miss Summers, sigurado ka bang gusto mong burahin ang lahat ng iyong identity records? Kapag nabura 'to, parang hindi ka na nag-exist, at walang makakahanap sa iyo." Nagpahinga si Adele nang sandali bago tumango nang mariin. "Oo, 'yon ang gusto ko. Ayoko nang hanapin ako ng sinuman." May bahagyang pagkagulat sa kabilang linya, ngunit agad silang sumagot, "Naiintindihan ko, Miss Summers. Ang proseso ay tatagal ng mga dalawang linggo. Mangyaring maghintay nang may pasensya."

After being married for five years, my husband, Harvey Jepson, brings his first love, Debbie Grayson, home after a six-month business trip. Debbie is over three months pregnant. Harvey says it's hard for her alone, so she's temporarily living with us. I say no, and Harvey warns me to know my place. His scornful tone seems to hint that he's forgotten this villa was a wedding gift to me. He and his family have been leeching off me for the past five years. This time, I'm cutting all of them off. I smile and call my assistant. "Draw up a divorce agreement for me now. To think a live-in husband would have the nerve to bring his mistress home so boldly."

The whole world knows that Rachel Saffron is Matt Quillon's and Sean Coal's true love. My best friend, Winnie Hamilton, and I are merely substitutes for Rachel. It seems like I'm the love of Matt's life, and Winnie is the only woman Sean has ever had eyes for. However, we both know this is nothing but an act.