Disbelief Papyrus

I check on family businesses in the countryside with my girlfriend, Mildred McClure, in tow. At noon, we stop by my uncle, Barron Cortez's, place for a simple lunch. Just as we are getting ready to leave, his new wife, whom he married just six months ago, Hilda Ross, rushes out and demands that we settle the bill. "Elden, you two just had the Supreme Farmhouse Set Meal, which is 1,888.80 dollars, and your girlfriend picked three organic, pesticide-free tomatoes in the garden. That's 199.80 dollars. "With an 80% service charge, your total comes to 3,800 dollars." Mildred is stunned. "Elden, do we have to pay to eat at your uncle's place?" I start to feel embarrassed, and my expression darkens as I look at Hilda, my supposed aunt, who's barely any older than me. "I've grown up eating at my uncle's place and never paid a single penny. Besides, your prices are downright outrageous!" Hilda calmly whips out a price menu and righteously declares, "That's all ancient history. Now, we're running a farmhouse business where all prices are clearly marked, so everyone pays the same rate. "Barron said you're some big boss in the city. Surely you're not going to stiff us over a little bill, are you?" She steps in front of the gate to block the exit with her body and shoots me a contemptuous look. "Even family settles their accounts. If you don't pay up today, don't even dream about stepping through this door!" While Mildred panics, I laugh in disbelief before taking out my phone and dialing Barron's number. "Uncle Barron, Hilda wants to settle accounts between family, so don't you think it's time we settled our accounts too?"

"If I knew I would lose all of it, I would have let you go from the beginning." Those were the last words Nadine said before collapsing from falling down the stairs. "If you had never been in my life, you wouldn't have lost it all." And the last thing she remembered was the cold face of her husband, who was disgusted to see her. Nadine thought it was the end of her life. And when she opened her eyes hell would await her. "Wait.. Why is it so comfortable in hell? And why is it similar to my room?" When Nadine opened her eyes she didn't feel any pain in her head and she was still wearing her nightdress. The sound of her mobile phone alarm made her startled. And what surprised her most, she found out the date on her phone. She returned three years ago. More precisely, one day before her wedding day with her husband. In disbelief, he circled her house, asking the servant what date it was. But they have the same answer. "God... Must be joking! Ha ha ha... For all day...." She laughed frantically. "If You want me to pay for my sin, choose before I've forced him to marry me." She bit her nail nervously and began to think. "I separated him from his lover once to marry me. Make an innocent man become a cheater and a despicable husband. Kill our unborn baby to get his attention. And end my life in misery. Now I have a second chance. I have to fix everything. Everything.... Maybe he and my unborn baby will forgive me and I won't die young." How can Nadine fix this mess? Can she get her husband's forgiveness? Or will she end up losing everything like before?

When I was seven, my father brought home a beautiful lady who gave me a mango. That day, my mother watched me happily eating the mango while she signed her name on the divorce papers. After that, she jumped off the roof of our building. From then on, mangoes became the nightmare of my life. So on my wedding day, I told my husband, Alan Holt, "If you ever want a divorce, just give me a mango." Alan pulled me into his arms, quiet. From then on, mangoes became off-limits for him, too. On Christmas Eve of our fifth year of marriage, Alan's childhood sweetheart, Larissa Fennimore, left a mango on his desk at the office. The very same day, Alan announced he was cutting ties with Larissa and fired her from the company. That day, I truly believed he was the man I was meant to be with. Half a year later, I flew back from overseas, having just closed a partnership deal worth about 200 million dollars. At the celebration dinner, Alan handed me a drink. After I had finished half the glass, his so-called childhood sweetheart, the woman who had been kicked out of the company, stood behind me with a big grin and asked, "Does the mango juice taste good?" I stared at Alan in disbelief, and he was trying hard not to laugh. "Don't be mad. Larissa insisted I played a little joke on you. I didn't actually give you a mango; I just gave you a bottle of mango juice. But I think she's right. The fact that you don't eat mangoes is a real problem. You were really enjoying that juice just now." My face went cold. I lifted my hand and threw the rest of the mango juice in his face, then turned around and walked away. Some things are never a joke. I wouldn't kid around with mangoes or divorce.