Bbw Cheating

I accidentally wear the gown Miles Graham prepared for his childhood sweetheart. To my horror, he forces me to take it off in public. "I prepared this for Nora—do you think you're worthy of wearing it? Take it off! You're dirtying it!" He knows I have serious PTSD after almost being violated, yet he insults me with those words. I look at him tearfully and beg him not to say anymore. That's when the gown's zip bursts open. My PTSD acts up. I'm so overwhelmed that I collapse on the floor and have a seizure. Miles dismisses everyone and takes Nora out on a date. He leaves me lying there in humiliation. I call my mentor before being discharged from the hospital. "Ms. Gardner, I've decided to participate in the water conservation project in Affenheim."

On the eve of our wedding, Trevin Hoffman's childhood sweetheart, a mercenary who had vanished for five years, was struck by a deadly love spell during a mission. When her teammates dragged her back to him, she was covered in blood, barely clinging to life. Trevin, usually calm and composed, lost control. Ignoring my protests, he locked himself in with her for the entire night. I sat outside that door, sleepless until dawn. The next morning, when I demanded an explanation in hysteria, he shielded her with his body and snapped, his mask completely gone. "I couldn't just watch Wren die. One wild night before marriage, what's so wrong with that?" At that moment, I was disillusioned. My love for him vanished in an instant.

My husband was in the late stages of liver cancer. Afraid of dragging me down, he committed suicide by jumping into the river. I couldn’t swim, but I dove in after him without hesitation. To give him the will to live on, I told him about winning the lottery. He pretended to struggle but took the chance to shove me underwater, drowning me. Before I could rest in peace, he ran off abroad with his first love using my money. Only then did I realize that he had planned to fake his death all along just to get rid of me! When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day he jumped into the river. You wanted to die, huh? Well, let me help you with that!

While I was tangled with my boyfriend in bed, I heard violent thumps coming from the door outside. I opened my eyes in a daze. "Is… Is someone knocking on the door…?" The man nibbled my earlobe, his voice hoarse and slurred, "Must have been the wind, baby…" In front of my eyes, the comments flew past. [Sweetie, look at the man in front of you a little closer, won't you?] [This is hilarious! The MC thought the contract only works one-on-one, but he forgot he had a twin brother from the very same bloodline, haha!] [Heh! Why just one brother if you can have both? She won't have to worry about going hungry ever again. What a lucky girl!] As my brain worked to process the information, a man's trembling roar came from outside the door, "Hyde, you scumbag! Get out here right now!"

When my wife brought her lover home for the fifth time, I decided enough was enough. I said nothing, not a word of complaint or protest. Instead, I superglued the windows shut and locked the bedroom door from the outside. From the bedroom came the muffled sounds of her little escapade, breathless and feverish, carrying through the walls like a shameful melody no one asked to hear. Calmly, I sat in the living room, picked up the phone, and called my mother-in-law. "Jessie," I said, putting on my best tone of urgency, "it's bad—real bad! Your daughter's locked herself in the bedroom and says she's gonna end it all!"

My health was not good, but I had always wanted a child. My husband, citing concern for my health, avoided intimacy with me for a year. Then I stumbled across his private messages with another woman. [You'll spend Valentine's Day with me, right? You're not going to touch her tonight, are you?] [You know I don't like doing it just to make babies. Got you some lingerie. Wear it for me tomorrow.] That ill-fitting lace lingerie he was talking about was on my body. I'd slipped it on while he was in the shower, thinking it was a Valentine's Day surprise from him. Turned out, he hadn't bought the wrong size. He had just sent it to the wrong address. I clicked on the woman's profile. Her latest video showed her at the beach, hand in hand with the person filming. I recognized her hand instantly. It belonged to my best friend.

During the third year of our marriage, my husband's ex—whom he dated for eight years—suddenly shares a photo of a ten-million-dollar marital home on her social media. It's captioned, "I've finally gotten a mansion! Who's the best at dating? I am!" I gape at the image—I see my husband swiping his card at the real estate sales office in a corner of the photo. I leave a question mark in the comments. In the next second, my husband calls me to tell me off. "I'm just making good on a promise I made her when we were dating—to buy her a marital home. Why did you have to go insult her like that? Are you evil enough to turn me into a man who goes back on his word?" That evening, his ex shares another photo of a million-dollar renovation bill. I know it's a gift from my husband to appease her, but I don't care anymore…

A group of unexpected guests suddenly barged into my relative’s funeral. The woman, Xena Carter, leading them claimed to be my husband’s girlfriend and declared that she was here to punish me, the supposed mistress. Out of respect for the funeral, I did not want to make a scene, so I calmly suggested she wait until it was over. But out of nowhere, she lashed out and ordered her group to shred all of my clothes. My relatives around us did nothing and watched coldly as it happened. I calmly dusted myself off, stood up, and led her over to the urn. "This urn for my mother was bought by your boyfriend. It cost nearly a million!" As expected, the mistress flew into a rage, smashing the urn to pieces. "You shameless family of lowlifes! Don’t think you’ll get a single cent from my boyfriend, even in death!" What she did not know was that when I said "mother," I was referring to my husband’s mother, my mother-in-law. She was causing a scene at my mother-in-law’s funeral, and she had just smashed her urn to pieces.

There's an earthquake. My husband, the captain of the rescue team, abandons me to save Wendy Smith, his true love. I don't stop him. I let him go. Why? Because when he was faced with the same choice in my past life, he saved me because I was eight months pregnant. Meanwhile, Wendy remained trapped under the rubble. She ultimately died due to a lack of oxygen after the delayed rescue. Later, on the day I went into labor, my husband brought me to Wendy's grave. He watched me coldly as I collapsed on the ground from the searing pain. He ignored my pleas. "Does it hurt, Yelena? Wendy's pain was a thousand times worse when she was trapped under the rubble!" I stared at him in disbelief as he descended into insanity. "You were safe that night—you were in the safe triangle zone! Wendy would never have missed the best time for rescue if not for you using your pregnancy to threaten me! I want you to experience all the pain she went through!" He forced me down on my knees and bumped my head on the ground before Wendy's grave. He ignored the blood that flowed down my legs. Ultimately, I died after major blood loss from a difficult labor. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day the earthquake happened. This time, neither I nor my child will wait for him.

I was cleaning up the house on the second day after my wife went for a business trip. I casually instructed the smart speaker. “Smart, play some music.” However, I heard a husky, strange male voice. “Sure. I’m the Sun that loves you. Plus, Lindy, I would like to remind you not to forget about your birthday surprise for Sam tonight.” I stiffened and found the music particularly annoying. Linda Clark was my wife, but I had no idea who Sam was. I immediately called my wife. “Did you use the smart speaker at home?” Linda paused for a moment before she laughed indifferently. “Oh, my friend visited me a few days ago. She might have connected her account to it. What’s wrong?” I laughed and told her it was nothing. After hanging up, I found the login record of the speaker and hailed a cab. I headed straight to the registered company associated with the unfamiliar account on the record.