1945 Pulitzer Winning

William Graham and Jasmine Spencer had been at odds since they were kids. But that year, fate played a trick on them—out of all the eligible matches in their circle, only the two of them were left. William swore he would rather die than marry Jasmine. That piqued her interest. She said, "Great. Then I guess I'm definitely marrying you. Go ahead and drop dead." On their wedding day, William humiliated her by releasing dozens of chickens at the ceremony. With a flat look, Jasmine picked one up and called it "Darling". Just like that, William lost all interest in the joke. He looked at the woman who insisted on marrying him and sneered. "You'll regret this." Three years into the marriage, Jasmine caught William cheating for the ninety-ninth time. It was only then that she finally understood— So this was the kind of regret William had meant.

Sam and I have been married for ten years. He always said he would give me the wedding of my dreams. However, three days before the ceremony, my eyes, which had been blind for the past six months after saving Sam’s life, miraculously regained vision. The first thing I saw when I opened them was Sam tangled in bed with his pretty secretary, Alisa. The bed was still shaking while Alisa typed on her phone. She showed it to him, smirking. [Sam, we're out of condoms. Why not ask your blind wife to grab one for us?] Sam’s veins bulged at his temple. His eyes darted toward me in panic. Alisa, however, scoffed and typed again. [What are you so scared of? Your wife’s blind. What’s she gonna see?] Sam sighed in resignation. “Hazel, can you pass me the box of cigarettes from the nightstand?” That cigarette box he mentioned was clearly labeled: Durex Ultra-Thin—Bare Feel. My heart shattered, and I booked a flight to Rockbridge before the wedding. When Sam came running after me, hysterical, I said coldly to him, “Sam. I can see.”

His precious childhood sweetheart got drunk one night and ended up in a stranger’s bed. When she showed up again, she was pregnant—just like me. On the day I gave birth, Harold handed me the divorce papers. "Rachel’s about to return to acting," he said coldly. "She and the baby need a proper title. If a scandal breaks out, it’ll destroy her." Dragging my frail body, I calmly signed the papers. In my previous life, I refused to step aside. I went live, holding my daughter, and exposed the award-winning actress Rachel Underwood for knowingly becoming the other woman. The internet turned on her. She lost every endorsement and was driven to the edge by massive fines—eventually jumping off a building. Harold quietly took care of her funeral... and then stood by as her fans harassed me in the streets, even tried to burn my child and me alive. It was not until I saw him lock the door behind us that I realized—he had wanted us dead all along. Then I woke up. And it was the day he gave me the divorce agreement... again.

I was six months pregnant when my husband's childhood sweetheart showed up on Christmas Eve, pregnant too, demanding her place in his life. Smiling, I welcomed her in. "Come on in. Make yourself at home." In my previous life, I had forced my husband to kick Shirley out. She collapsed from low blood sugar and froze to death that very Christmas Eve. Matthew did not hold it against me. On the contrary, he softened, stayed by my side and took care of me while I waited to give birth. However, when the baby came, despite being an obstetrician himself, Matthew sent our healthy newborn son straight to the morgue. I begged him desperately, but his face was twisted with hatred. "If you hadn't been so petty and dramatic, Shirley wouldn't have died along with her baby!" "You're heartbroken over your son? Then go freeze to death too. Pay for Shirley’s life with your own life." Just like that, I opened my eyes again, back to the moment Shirley arrived on Christmas Eve.

On Valentine's Day, my husband Ethan Scott’s assistant, Taylor Winston, gifted me 360 used condoms. She leaned close to my ear and whispered that this was Ethan’s favorite brand. Then, in front of everyone, she teased, "Valentine's Day calls for some explosive fun. I hope you don't mind, Claire." Disgust churned in my stomach, and I couldn’t hold back—I vomited on the spot. Embarrassed that I had humiliated him, Ethan snapped, "It was just a joke. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?" Three months pregnant, I was so enraged that a patch of red stained my pants. I begged him to take me to the hospital. But Taylor chimed in, "It's just her physiological reaction." Furious, Ethan heartlessly locked me in the car. He spent three carefree days with Taylor before finally remembering me. But when he saw me again, the usually composed CEO of Scott Enterprise completely lost his mind.

In the sixth year of my marriage with Zach Elroy, his workplace finally allocated us a small, two-room flat. I was overjoyed. I told our daughter she would finally have a bed of her own. But Zach said coldly, "This room is for Jennifer and her daughter. You and Kathy can keep sleeping on the floor." In my past life, we fought bitterly over it. He eventually gave in. But while I was away on a work trip, he went back on his word. He brought Jennifer Cross into our home and made our daughter, Kathy, sleep on the floor. That night, when Kathy came down with a high fever and cried out that she felt sick, he was reading Jennifer and her daughter a bedtime story. Our daughter passed away that night. Now, in this life, I calmly laid out the bedding on the floor and said, "Whatever."

I sustain brain damage from a car crash and end up with a memory akin to a goldfish. However, I remember my feelings for Caleb Warner for seven whole years. Things change when he abandons me on a mountain top after losing a bet with someone. He sneers and says, "Write this in your journal, Sadie. Consider it a lesson learned." It's wintertime, and it's freezing on top of the mountain. I almost die there. I later destroy everything that has to do with Caleb and allow my memories of him to disappear from my mind. … One night, someone by the name of Caleb Warner calls me. My boyfriend jealously pulls me close and asks, "Who's this?" I shake my head dazedly. "I don't know." The person on the other end of the line loses it when he hears my answer.

I've been with Hansen Fullerton for seven years. One day, he tells me he's sick of me and dumps me for a younger, more vivacious woman. I don't kick up a fuss this time. Instead, I throw away my ring and cut up the wedding gown I've just bought. Then, I take a red-eye flight away from Gold City. His friends place bets on how long it'll take for me to return and beg for reconciliation. Hansen sneers. "She'll be back in less than three days, crying and begging me to take her back." However, more than three days pass without any news from me. Hansen loses his cool and calls me for the first time. "You'd better come back once you've had enough of this, Christine." All he hears is a man's low chuckle on the other end of the line. "You shouldn't have taken this long to pacify a woman, Mr. Fullerton. Look at how someone's already taken her away from you." Hansen snarls, "Tell Christine to answer the phone!" Landon Shore lowers his head to kiss me. "She can't—she's still out of it. I have to kiss her awake first."

In my past life, my boyfriend Jared Xanderson's childhood sweetheart, Cindy Smith, pretends to be a rich heiress and fools around recklessly. When I expose her lies, she snaps and rams her car straight into me. As I lie on the brink of death, Jared's older brother, Mark Xanderson, gets down on his knees and begs him to save me. But Jared doesn't even flinch. "That's impossible. Cindy's of noble status—why would she dirty her hands over a nobody like her? Just because she's dating me doesn't mean she can climb above her station. She needs to remember her place." Mark kneels and pleads for three days and three nights, but it's useless. In the end, he's beaten to death by thugs Cindy sends after him. Even as my heart stops beating, Jared is still defending Cindy. He covers up the evidence and refuses to believe she killed someone, even as she destroys his own brother. Now, reborn, I don't waste time begging Jared to visit me. This time, I call my brother, Eric Spencer, first. "Eric, there's a woman out there impersonating me and running wild. Handle it. Also, about the Xanderson family engagement—I'm switching grooms from Jared to his brother, Mark." Over the years, I've poured massive resources into the Xanderson family, but it seems I've only raised a pack of ungrateful snakes. Now I want to see how long Jared and his precious Cindy can stay on their high horse without me!

My husband’s friend’s widow uploaded a picture of her pregnancy report. [Thank you for letting me have my own baby.] I responded with a question mark when I saw Jake Green, my husband’s name, in the husband column. Jake immediately called me to yell at me. “She’s a widow and is living alone. All she wants is to have a baby to keep her company and give her life a little more cheer. How could you not show her even this bit of pity? “You know that Henry is my friend. It’s only right for me to take care of his wife after he died! This is called friendship, don’t you understand?!” Soon, Henry’s widow uploaded a photo of a loft apartment. [Thank goodness you’re by my side to let me experience the warmth of a family again.] When I saw Jake busying himself in the kitchen in the photo, I thought it was time to end the marriage.