Emotional

My husband's childhood sweetheart needed surgery, and he insisted that I be the one to operate on her. I followed every medical protocol, doing everything I could to save her. However, after she was discharged, she accused me of medical malpractice and claimed I’d left her permanently disabled. I turned to my husband, hoping he’d speak up for me, but he curtly said, “I told you not to act recklessly. Now look what’s happened.” To my shock, the hospital surveillance footage also showed that I hadn’t followed the correct surgical procedure. I couldn’t defend myself. In the end, I was stabbed to death by her super-alpha husband. Even as I died, I still couldn’t understand—how did the footage show my surgical steps were wrong? When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Joanna was admitted for testing.

Thanks to my dad's work, I have to transfer schools. Soon, I go to my new school to register for my enrolment. After submitting my personal information, the teacher in charge shoots me an odd look. "Is your father Mr. Chapman, the new shareholder? His child should have enrolled with us a long time ago. In fact, his daughter is half a year older than you. You're not that person at all…" Stunned, I dig out my phone and show my photo with my dad to the teacher. She glances at the photo before showing me the system window. "Mr. Chapman's daughter has been studying in this school since the first term. He even donated a library to the school recently. This is a photo the school board has taken. You can take a look yourself." In the photo, my dad and an unfamiliar student can be seen standing at the school's bulletin board. That young lady looks as old as I do. Her features are similar to my dad's. In fact, she resembles him more than I do! If they are an actual father and daughter pair, then who am I?

I ditched a shot at studying abroad to help my boyfriend, Gavin Censori, launch his startup. Stuck it out with him through seven brutal years. Then boom—success hit, and so did the ghosting. On Valentine's Day, he hit me with the classic "work's crazy" excuse. Instead of showing up, he had some random delivery dude drop off a box of cosmetic samples. Samples. Later that night, his secretary Rebecca popped up on my feed, flexing hard. Caption: [With a boss like this, why go home early?] Pic: A box of high-end makeup. Same brand. Hers weren't samples. I dropped a comment: [You're doing great at your sidechick job. Gold star.] Gavin called instantly, losing it. "What's your problem? She's just an employee! I bust my ass making money for you, and you're always jealous!" I laughed. Didn't even yell. Just dumped him. Seven years, and I'd never touched a dime of his. Joke's on him—his precious startup? Secretly bankrolled by me. Fast-forward three years. Business summit. He rolled in wearing a tailored suit. The second he spotted me with a bag of bottles, his smirk kicked in. "Didn't like those cosmetics I gave you, huh? Now look at you—reduced to bottle collecting?"

The night before the company went public, my wife told me she had a surprise for me and reminded me to dress up for the occasion. I thought she was planning to reveal our secret relationship, and I was so excited that I couldn’t sleep all night. However, the next day, in front of everyone, she announced that I was a creepy obsessive admirer. On top of that, she revoked my promotion and gave my position to her first love who had just returned to the country. Everyone was waiting to see me humiliated. I froze for a moment but quickly composed myself, walking up to her first love with a faint smile. Then, I took off the badge on my chest and placed it on him. “As the new director, you should celebrate, shouldn't you? How about a wedding? I’ll officiate for you two.” Glaring at me coldly, my wife told me to get lost and stop embarrassing myself. What they didn’t know was that I was the key connection holding the entire company together. If I left, none of the investors would back them anymore.

To take care of my paralyzed mother-in-law, I quit my job and spent three years as a full-time househusband. That day, after cleaning up her waste, I hid in the bathroom with a cigarette between my fingers and came across a post on my wife’s boss’ Instagram. [You’re meant to be with me in the end. Since that freeloader can’t give you happiness, let me take you to the paradise of Maldev.] Above the caption were two plane tickets. Someone commented below. [That homemaker husband of hers is definitely clinging onto her. After all, she’s his meal ticket.] The boss replied. [Don’t worry. Tonight she’ll go home and come clean. She’ll say the company was caught falsifying accounts and is facing massive fines, and that she might need to serve jail time. [To keep that guy from getting dragged into it, the only option is divorce. He’s as timid as a mouse and will take any chance to flee.] I stared at the screen, stunned, until the cigarette burned my fingers. Ten minutes later, my wife rushed home, panic written all over her face. She dropped her bag on the floor. “Honey, something’s gone wrong with the company’s finances. They’re accusing us of falsifying accounts. I was solely responsible for the accounts. I might need to serve 10 years in prison, plus fines of more than ten thousand dollars. “We need to sign the papers before they seize our house. I don’t want to drag you and mom into this.”

While we're having our dinner on Christmas Eve, my mom suddenly asks me loudly, "Do you have your chastity?" I look confused. "What?" My mom just smiles very smugly. "I knew you were the adventurous type! You must have lost it because of someone else!" After that, she shoots my husband, Louis Hartson, a knowing look. "You don't know about this yet, right? Before Yvonne married you, she was an absolute player in the dating pool. Her father and I couldn't keep her under control at all!" I widen my eyes in shock. "What are you talking about?" My mom is even happier when she sees how angry I am. "Oh? You have the guts to do it, yet you're too cowardly to admit to it?" I can only clench my fists tightly under the table after hearing my mom's slanderous accusations. Since she likes spreading baseless rumors about me this much, I'm not going to keep her secret for her anymore.

I was a washed-up singer, but my wife forced me to attend a divorce variety show. I tried my best to earn money for the family, but on the show, she said that I was worthless. She even got to know the son of an affluent family. She called the guy babe and went to his room whilst wearing seductive clothes. I couldn't stand it anymore and tried to stop her, but she cursed, "You're just a useless piece of garbage! You can't even afford to buy me a decent bag. I thought your earnings would improve over the years, but your earnings are still nowhere near enough. Why can't I pursue the happiness I want? Get out of my sight!"

On my daughter’s birthday, I showed up at her after-school program unannounced to surprise her. When I mentioned to the instructor that I was Maddie’s parent, she furrowed her brows. “Are you saying that you’re Maddie’s mother?” I nodded, feeling a little displeased. Though her father, Matthew Rowe handled the drop-offs and pick-ups, the instructor had no business giving me an attitude. Nevertheless, the instructor promised to bring Maddie out right away with a huge grin. As she turned away, I decided not to make a big fuss out of the matter. The next minute, the instructor emerged with two burly men. “That’s her! She’s here to abduct one of the kids!”

When I was six, I spilled hot water, slipped, and burned my face. My face was ruined. My parents learned their lesson and never let my younger sister do housework. To everyone they met, they praised her beauty, her charm. They turned to me with nothing but disdain. When I was ten, I had a high fever. They didn't think much of it and let it drag on until my brain was damaged, leaving me slow and dull. They learned their lesson again. From then on, if my sister so much as coughed, they would rush her to the hospital in the dead of night, showering her with care. I was like a failed experiment. Every mistake they made with me, they corrected for her. I was ugly, silent, dim-witted, unwanted. She was beautiful, sweet-talking, clever, adored by all. When I was diagnosed with depression, I gathered what little courage I had and told them. Mom lashed out, called me sick in the head, and accused me of being petty. If I was so capable, she said, I might as well die. It wasn't until my sister pushed me off a high-rise that they found out, by sheer accident, that she wasn't their child at all. I was their one and only biological child.

How crazy can night-shift nurses really be? As a doctor, I am well aware of this. That night, while making my rounds, I passed by the break room and heard strange noises from inside. Curious, I took a quick glance and saw two people in white coats pressed closely together, one in front of the other. One of them was Veronica Adams, a nurse widely admired for her beauty and innocence, often referred to as the hospital's 'angel.' When she saw me, she didn’t shy away; instead, she invited me to join them...