Dumbledore Said Calmly Meme

I once believed Sarah Weller was the love of my life. For her, I planned a once-in-a-lifetime wedding; for her, I launched a “True Love” jewelry collection worth over a billion. However, with only seven days left before the wedding, she calmly told me that she needed to fulfill her first love’s late mother’s final wish to marry him first, and only then marry me. As if it were a matter of fact, she said, “For Tim, all of this can be sacrificed. If you can’t even bear to lose that little bit of money, you can find someone else to marry right now.” Only then did I understand. In her world, I and everything I had built could be pushed aside at any moment for her so-called first love. So, I turned around without another word and called home. “Penelope,” I said to my sister-in-law, “the wedding will proceed as scheduled. Just do me a favor and replace the bride.”

At the wedding, just as I was about to exchange rings with my fiancée, her conniving boyfriend intentionally pushed his son toward her. Right in front of everyone, the boy looked up with teary eyes and asked, "Mom, why are you marrying this man? Don't you want me and Dad anymore?" My fiancée, who never lied, smiled, took the child's hand, and said, "I was only pretending with this man earlier. Now I am going to marry your father." The banquet hall buzzed with whispers. Everyone expected me to get jealous and blow up. Instead, I said the child came first and calmly handed the ring to the boyfriend sitting below the stage. Seeing how cooperative I was, my fiancée grinned and promised she would give me a healthy baby boy someday as a thank you. However, she seemed to have forgotten that we had not officially tied the knot yet. Truth be told, I had no intention of ever doing so.

My husband was a senior military officer and a hardcore military fanatic. When I went into labor and my life was at risk, I begged him to sign the consent form for an emergency C-section. Instead, he looked at me coldly and asked, “What’s the maximum cruising speed of a Boeing 747? Answer correctly, and I’ll sign.” Later, my body tore from the prolonged labor, and our son suffocated to death. He said calmly, as if reciting a fact, “One thousand one hundred and twenty-seven kilometers per hour. Remember that?” At that moment, I looked at his indifferent expression and realized that I no longer loved him. With that, I left behind the divorce papers and disappeared from his life. “Felix, the military-illiterate wife you were ashamed of will never come back.”

For eighteen years, my wife, Elizabeth Connerty, never once reached out to her first love, Lucas Ryder. She committed herself fully to me and cooked warm meals for me. She attended every parent-teacher conference for our daughter. She carefully planned our family trips year after year. That was how we lived—quietly, steadily, and happily—for eighteen years. But after our daughter celebrated her eighteenth birthday, I turned to Elizabeth and said, "Let's get a divorce." She stood in the doorway of our daughter's bedroom, staring at me in stunned silence. I added calmly, "When our daughter was born, you promised me that once she turned eighteen, we would divorce."

On Teacher's Day, my wife, Hera, was promoted to associate professor. Even for our marriage we simply registered without a proper ceremony, yet this time, she specifically prepared a feast at home to celebrate. During the dinner, she took out the flowers a male student had given her and was about to put them in a vase. Without warning, I knocked the flowers out of her hand, flipped over the vase, and, under the bewildered gazes of the whole family, calmly said, "Let's get a divorce." Hera was stunned at first, then angrily snapped, "Stanley Lawson, what's gotten into you? I’m just putting some flowers my student gave me in a vase. What's the big deal?" My mother-in-law, Sarah Swift, chimed in, "Hera just got promoted to associate professor, and it's Teacher's Day. What's wrong with a student giving her flowers? Are you seriously getting jealous over that?" I glanced at the scattered petals on the floor and slowly said, "Yes, it's because of these flowers that I want a divorce."

Xena Xander returned to the past and found herself back in 1989. That year, she was thirty. Her husband, Julian Zane, was thirty-five. He had just become the youngest academician at the National Academy of Sciences. He was a national talent, and his future looked exceptionally promising. They had a pair of ten-year-old twins. Everyone said she was lucky. She was so lucky to have a good husband and sweet children. But the first thing she did after returning to the past was consult a lawyer and prepare two divorce agreements. She called Julian’s office. When the assistant realized it was her, the response was brief. “Xena, Professor Zane is busy. He doesn’t have time.” She went to the research institute to look for him, but the guard stopped her at the entrance. “Sorry, Professor Zane is unavailable right now.” After three days, she took the divorce agreement and went to see Julian’s first love. She placed the agreement in front of Moon Jensen and calmly said, “Please have Julian sign the divorce agreement. From now on, he and the two children belong to you.”

Sorevia City, Darmoria One of my wife's so-called friends practically shouted across the table, "So, you got knocked up by your side piece. What's the game plan?" Vanessa Joplin calmly set a plate of steak in front of me. "We always said if one of us cheated, we'd vanish from each other's lives for good," she said, all sugar-sweet. "I'm not letting that happen. So yeah—I've been careful. Once the baby's here, the only dad anyone'll see is Glen." After that, she signed that she'd love me forever—totally missing the red burn around my eyes. She didn't know I'd gotten my hearing back a week ago. Didn't know I already knew about the guy on the side. And she definitely didn't know I'd bought a ticket north. Seven days. Once the paperwork cleared, I'd be gone. No noise. No goodbye. Just erased.

BOOK ONE:“You can fight me all you want, Grace, but you can't ignore what you feel for me forever. If neither of us reject each other the bond only grows stronger. You feel it don't you, your need for me," He calmly said, inching his way toward me. I glared at him, the sound of his voice had me pooling in my. I hated that, hated that all it took was his voice to turn me on, "You're not my mate. I refuse to believe it!" Was all I said before I stormed out of there.__________________________After a drunken one night stand with a stranger, Grace Evans wakes up with a note left at her bedside. The last words of the note both startle and confuse her especially since she saw her mate die in front of her very eyes. What happens when the mysterious stranger now comes to claim her? Will she give in to him or will she reject him, killing his wolf and breaking his heart?

Before my parents died, they entrusted me to the most powerful vampire clan — the Vanderlooms. I married Jason, the heir, and spent ten years by his side — only to discover he'd gotten his vampire subordinate pregnant. He said I was just a human. That conceiving a vampire's child was nearly impossible for someone like me. That even if my parents died saving his life, it didn't mean I could hold on to the title of lady of the house forever. Vicky said she needed human blood for her pregnancy and demanded I serve as her blood thrall. Jason just watched with casual indifference. He didn't stop her. So I packed my bags and calmly handed him the divorce papers. He sneered. "That trick doesn't work anymore. You want to leave? Go ahead." "Give it a week. You'll come crawling back." But what he didn't know was that I'd already accepted another man's proposal. This time, I was done loving him for good.

My three-year-old son looked nothing like my husband. Suspicious, my father-in-law secretly took my son for a paternity test. The results showed that there was no biological relationship between them. Furious and humiliated, my father-in-law erupted in anger, hurling insults at me and even threatening to kill us. My husband, just as enraged, slapped me hard across the face. "You shameless wrench! You've made me raise another man's child for three years!" As I stared at their accusing faces, I calmly produced another report—the paternity test between my husband and his father. It confirmed they weren't biologically related either. Their expressions froze in shock. With a faint smile, I said, "Looks like we don't know for sure who isn't part of this family, do we?"