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My brother-in-law passed away in an accident. Out of pity for his widow, my husband decided to be the breadwinner for both families. After that, my husband and son both gave all their love to my widowed sister-in-law. On her birthday, my husband and son reserved a restaurant in town for her party. I was plucking corn in the field when I started bleeding, a sign that I was miscarrying. I called my husband, begging him to come home and take me to the hospital. However, he scolded me angrily, calling me a liar. “What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t touched you in months! How could you be pregnant?” My son grabbed the phone impatiently as well. “Mom, the teacher said lying is wrong! Aunt Laura’s blowing out the candles now, bye!” We had been married for seven years, yet they had completely forgotten that today was my birthday too. Despairing, I dialed another number. “Mother, I changed my mind. I’m going back to inherit the clinic.”

After Blair saved the injured and amnesic Mable, she pestered him with a thick face and repaid him with her body.However, throughout their two years of marriage, Blair always turned his nose up at her.“You don’t deserve to like me!”So, Mable came to her senses and decided to start life anew by returning to her original self.After the divorce, Blair found that his ex-wife, whom he cast aside like old shoes, had transformed into an impressive big shot.Wealthy families revered her as their queen, while mysterious hidden families respected her as their lady.Ace mercenaries worshipped her as their mistress, while medical leaders regarded her as a legend.Even the world’s richest man would confess to her in fancy ways on live stream every day…“Mr…. Mr. Fowler, Madam—”“Wants to see me?”“No, the prince of Fargen, the richest man in Tolfiend, and major-general of Sorolen are all on their way to propose to Madam!”Blair slammed the desk and stood up. He dialed the phone and said, “Mabes, let’s remarry…”“Remarry? You’re not worthy!”

I was anonymously reported for fraudulent credit card use and arrested. The victim turned out to be my own husband. I pulled out my phone to show them our marriage certificate to prove my innocence, but the police officer frowned as he looked at me. "Ma'am, the Lucas Richardson on this certificate is not your husband. You're still unmarried." I could not believe it and asked the officer to check again immediately. He looked at me with sympathy, but quickly spoke again, "Our records show that Lucas Richardson's spouse is Vivian Clarke and that they have a three-year-old child together. Ma'am, if you cannot prove your relationship with him, you will face criminal detention." I felt like I had been struck by lightning. Six years ago, Lucas had a secretary named Vivian who was obsessively in love with him. On the day Lucas and I got married, she caused a scene and threatened suicide. In the end, he had to personally handle the situation for three days before coming home. It turned out that his solution was to marry Vivian instead.

Just as Justin proposed to me, a phone call interrupted him. Standing close by, I clearly heard the voice on the other end of the line. “Justin, I’m hurt. My leg hurts so much!” Justin snapped the ring box shut and looked at me. “Alice is injured. I’ll have to do this another time.” With those words, he sprinted away, leaving everyone around us staring in astonishment. I had never met Alice, but her presence lingered in every corner of our lives.  At meals, Justin would mention her fondness for sweet desserts.  When I dressed, I came to know her love for soft lavender hues. I argued, I wept, I lashed out, but Justin always countered with the same line. “You’re so jealous. Everyone has their first love. She’s my past, but you’re my future.” So, I turned to a man who had once called me his first love—Quentin—and made a bold proposition. “Let’s get married.”

In the two years after Bradley Vaughn's so-called "memory loss," we divorced seven times—all to keep his childhood crush Vivian Monroe happy. Number eight? Because Vivian got pregnant. "You can't have kids anyway. Once Vivian has the baby, we'll get back together. You can raise the kid." That was his usual ice-cold line as he slid the papers across the table. That night, he kicked me out—said Vivian got nauseous just seeing me. I moved into another house. Alone. In the rain. Even after I landed in the ER from a near assault, he didn't bother asking if I was okay. Then one day, I spotted him at a clinic with Vivian. He rubbed her belly and laughed, "So what if she finds out I faked the amnesia? She can't live without me. Toss her a bone, she'll come crawling." I looked away, steady. Then my phone buzzed. [How did your checkup go?]

"I have found your woman" Mark, said through the phone. "What!" James who was coming out of the shopping mall exclaimed "Yes, I saw her in Northland. In very pitiful conditions. She was......." James cut the phone immediately without letting Mark finish with what he wanted to say. "Prepare the jet immediately we are going back to Topland," James told his assistant Toby after he hung up on the phone. He is not prepared to come back home so soon because he is still hurt by the way Catherine abandoned him. However, after receiving such information from Mark he has the urge to see her and ask her why she left him like she did. He thought he could move on with his life, but that girl was irresistible. Her image kept coming back to his memory and made him lose control of his emotions. Fortunately when he least expected he received such news. "The jet is ready boss" Toby announced and instantly James and his men headed to Top Land.

My son asked me for something I couldn’t give. “Just three chances, Mom,” he whispered. “If he really doesn’t love us after that… we’ll leave forever.” He was talking about his father — Giovanni Romano. The heir to a Mafia empire. My husband in name only. He never called our son his own. He never once said he loved me. Chance one, Giovanni forgot. Chance two, he lied. Chance three… he broke something no apology could fix. So I packed our bags, held my son’s hand, and walked away. No tears. No goodbyes. Just quiet. The night our plane took off, my phone buzzed. “Wait,” his message read. “I’m coming home.” But home isn’t where he is anymore. It’s wherever my son finally sleeps without crying. Because some promises don’t break — they shatter. And some mothers never wait again.

Everyone thought he called me into his office to scold me. But when I got home, my phone lit up. “I’m sorry… did I f**k you too hard?” he asked, calm as ever. *** After years of being Grant’s invisible wife, Aurelia finally chooses herself. She leaves the mansion, the marriage, and the man who made her feel small. But healing doesn’t come easy, not when your ex can’t let go. Her new boss turns out to be the man every woman whispers about, Julien Knightley, ruthless in the boardroom, magnetic in every other room. The kind of man who sees through the walls she built, and makes her want to live again. But when Grant realizes he’s lost control, obsession replaces love, and the lines between power, passion, and possession blur. The end of her marriage was the beginning of her dangerous new story. A story of healing, second chances, and a woman who refuses to stay broken...

They had been married for three years, yet he treated her like dirt while he gave Lilith all of his love. He neglected and mistreated her, and their marriage was like a cage. Zoe bore with all of it because she loved Mason deeply! That was, until that night. It was a downpour and he abandoned his pregnant wife to spend time with Lilith. Zoe, on the other hand, had to crawl her way to the phone to contact an ambulance while blood was flowing down her feet. She realized it at last. You can’t force someone to love you. Zoe drafted a divorce agreement and left quietly. … Two years later, Zoe was back with a bang. Countless men wanted to win her heart. Her scummy ex-husband said, “I didn’t sign the agreement, Zoe! I’m not going to let you be with another man!” Zoe smiled nonchalantly, “It’s over between us, Mason!” His eyes reddened when he recited their wedding vows with a trembling voice, “Mason and Zoe will be together forever, in sickness or health. I refuse to divorce!”

A few weeks before our wedding, Rodney Luther's stepmother, Jessica Flaine, posts a photo on her social media. In the photo, she's wearing the wedding dress I picked out, holding a bouquet of red roses, and shyly leaning toward Rodney, asking for a kiss. The caption reads—"Dreams fulfilled." I don't call Rodney in tears or throw a fit like I used to. I simply like the post and leave a comment. "Screenshot sent to Rodney's father." Not long after, Jessica deletes the post, and Rodney's phone call follows immediately. "Ivana, you're being so petty! The rest of my days belong to you. It's only today that I'm fulfilling a small dream of Jessica's. Hurry up and explain things to my dad! "Come on, be good. I've got a gift for you." A scoff escapes me. "Rodney, do you hear me clearly? Go explain it to your father yourself!"