Emotional Turmoil Synonym

I was finally pregnant after three years of marriage. I was going to head to where my husband works with a lunchbox in my hand to tell him the good news. But I ended up being mistaken as a mistress by his secretary. She dumped the food I had prepared on my head, stripped my clothes off, and continued to hit me until I had a miscarriage. “You’re just a servant. How dare you seduce Mr. Gates and bear his child? “Today, I’ll make sure you suffer the consequences of being a mistress!” She then went to my husband asking for a reward. “Mr. Gates, I took care of a servant who wanted to seduce you. How are you going to reward me?”

When I visit my girlfriend's house during the Christmas holidays, her cousin, Antonio Esposito, humiliates me in front of everyone because of a scar on the back of my hand. "This scar looks like a remnant of the crossfire with the mafia! Bianca, why did you think that bringing an ex-convict home was a good idea?" The entire Romano family stares at me in a mixture of horror and shock. My girlfriend, Bianco Romano, even shakes my hand off while staring at me in disgust. Not only does Antonio flip the table, but he also calls over a few hooligans in an attempt to take me to the local police station. "We must teach scumbags like him a lesson!" he declares. After that, Antonio and the hooligans strip off my jacket and strap me to the tree in the courtyard. They then attempt to force me to admit that I'm working for the mafia. I can only gnash my teeth together stubbornly, refusing to yield no matter what. What they don't know is that the scar is a medal from my time in a peacekeeping war as a soldier!

Using an alternative account, I secretly join a cycling group chat that my husband, Liam Johnson, is in. One day, an announcement is made in the group chat. "We'll be organizing a weekend mountain biking activity with an overnight stay, with two people sharing a room. To add some excitement, we'll be drawing lots for room assignments." I can't really understand it. Curious, I ask, "What if a man and a woman end up drawing the same room?"

I went abroad for three years to build a lab and save my husband's company from collapse. After endless struggles, I finally cracked the technical problems and developed the core technology. When I returned home with that breakthrough, I saw the airport video board plastered with the same impossible headline—my husband was getting married. I felt a hot, furious ache and took a taxi straight to the venue. … A woman who had cared for our household for years blocked me at the gate and sneered. "Who do you think you are, showing up at the Stone family's wedding? Get out of here, or I'll get security to throw you out." For a moment, I stood rooted, but then the bride appeared, walking out of the villa in a wedding gown. It was the woman Adrian Stone had once told me was dead—his first love, Evelyn Sutton. She wore my wedding ring on her finger and looked at me with pure contempt. "You want to make a scene at my wedding?" she said. "If you do, you're really asking for trouble. My husband, Adrian, won't hesitate to take care of you." I folded my arms and let out a cold laugh. "Adrian's getting married? Funny, I don't recall getting an invitation."

I was always flying for work, so I left the whole renovation thing to my husband, Daxton Pruitt. This time, my flight got scrapped last minute, so I swung by the house to check in. The second I stepped inside, some woman named Mona Scambley, who claimed she was the designer, chucked a stack of invoices at me. Couples' lingerie display case: $15,000. High-end waterbed: $40,000. One glance at that pile of overpriced tacky nonsense made me nauseous. My brows pulled tight. "Ms. Scambley, this is a private house, not some couples' motel. What is all this?" Her face flipped in a heartbeat. She jabbed a finger at me. "The owner gave those orders. You're just the site supervisor. Disobey me again, and I'll have Mr. Pruitt fire you!" Then she spun around and called Daxton right there. I laughed, cold and low, about to ask what kind of clown show designer he'd hired—until I heard his voice. Gentle. Doting. "This is Mona and my love nest. We'll do whatever we want. Don't like it? Get out." I smiled, snatched the list from Mona, and nodded. "Sure." One week later, that overpriced waterbed showed up—Daxton, very much not smiling.

Peggy Flannery, the new recruit who's being mentored by my husband, Eugene Shaw, insists on practicing how to carve words onto a patient's heart. It so happens that my mother-in-law has suffered from a sudden heart attack. So, I quickly take her to the hospital so that Eugene, who's also known as a genius surgeon, can save her life. Unbeknownst to me, Eugene is quick to entrust my mother-in-law to Peggy, who has barely joined the hospital for three days, so that she can practice her carving on her. Peggy is very careless with her strength. When she's in the middle of carving something onto my mother-in-law's heart, she accidentally punctures a heart valve, resulting in my mother-in-law's instant death. Once the death happens, Peggy wails to Eugene, "That hag is really frail and delicate! I'm not even done carving my name onto her heart! What should I do now?" Eugene wipes her tears away gently. There's heartbreak in his eyes as he says, "It's fine. No one will be able to bully you with me around." Once Eugene exits the operating theater, he declares that the surgery is a failure and that I should start preparing the funeral matters. Unable to accept reality, I grab him by the shoulders and keep questioning him. "Isn't this just a minimally invasive surgery? How did Mom die just like that? I want to see the surgical footage!" But Eugene responds by slapping me angrily. "Your mom is already old, to begin with! How dare you pin the blame on others when her frail and weak body is the main cause of her death! I haven't even begun to settle the score with you for giving Peggy such a huge fright! "Hurry up and sign the letter of forgiveness! If this incident does affect Peggy in any way, I'll file for a divorce right away!" Needless to say, I'm so furious that I can't even utter a single word after hearing Eugene's shameless words. Does he seriously think that my mother is the one who's dead? I merely chuckle icily in return. "Honestly speaking, you have more right to sign the letter of forgiveness than I do."

I'm the second child of the family. Because of that, I'm also the one everyone neglects by nature. The birthdays of my older brother, Joe Thompson, and my younger sister, Lyra Thompson, are jotted down on the calendar by my parents. But they always fail to remember my own birthday. Joe and Lyra often have new clothes to wear, whereas my parents keep forgetting to buy new clothes for me. Heck, Joe and Lyra often receive holiday gifts! Meanwhile, my parents never bother giving me anything during the holidays. In fact, when we're traveling back to our hometown, my parents end up ditching me at a deserted highway rest stop when the temperature is extremely low…

"Julia, the money's gone." "What money?" In a sheepish tone, Mom explains, "We used the 68 grand you left with us to help your brother buy a house for his upcoming wedding." At that moment, dread swallows me whole. Just last week, I left my hard-earned savings with my parents to keep it from being discovered by my abusive husband. But now... I choke up, and my voice trembles as I speak. "Mom, that is the only money I have for myself after the divorce!" My father scolds me from the side. "Why are you getting a divorce in the first place?" I shoot back, "You know he has been hitting me. If I don't leave him, he will beat me to death!" Dad slams the table angrily. "All women put up with stuff like that just fine! If your brother can't get married, it will be the end of our lineage. That's the more pressing problem!" I look at them, my blood running cold. "Take that 68 grand as my final payment to you for raising me. We'll cut ties right here and now. In the future, don't ever come to me and ask me to support you when you grow old."

It was my honeymoon trip, but my husband's best friend insisted on going into the sea for shark watching despite being on her period. I reasoned against it, as sharks would go amok from the scent of blood, only for Heidi to snap at me, "You're just jealous I have a nice body! That's why you don't want me to have fun with your husband!" My own husband and his other buddies joined in too, brushing me off impatiently. "It's rare for us to hang out! Don't be a buzzkill!" "That's right! Hannah is young and beautiful. She should take pictures with the sharks." With that, they all went down the water despite my earnest protests, and her menstrual bleeding drew schools of sharks toward her right away. When I tried to help, she kicked me in the head, knocking me out and leaving me in the water as the sharks tore me to pieces. While I died under the sea in agonizing despair, Heidi, my husband, and their friends managed to get to safety. Once they returned to civilization, they reported my death as a drowning and pilfered all my wealth. While they rose to the peak of their existence, my parents, devastated by my death, both took their own lives. That was when I opened my eyes again and found myself back on the desert island where they were going for shark watching.

When Neil Young brought up divorce again, I calmly signed the divorce agreement and began to cut off all contact between us. On the first day, I sold the unfinished marital house I had bought two years ago. On the second day, I stopped his grandma’s monthly $2,000 pension and cancelled his sister’s supplementary card. On the third day, I called my brother and returned to my real home. Once the plane touched down, I suddenly became curious. Without me, his ever-ready, self-sacrificing maid, how would Neil support his irritable grandmother, vain sister, and leeching junior?