Fortune

I had a cousin my age. She overslept and was late for her SATs. Yet, she pinned the blame on me, saying that I made her take some fever medication. She stole 300 thousand meant for Grandma's surgery, claiming it was to buy me a car. She even insisted I was at fault when she accidentally got pregnant and took the wrong abortion pills, leading to severe bleeding. She vehemently insisted I pushed her, causing her to fall. My boyfriend stood by her side time and time again. Eventually, he finally gave up on me, telling me it was over. My aunt shoved me down the stairs, accusing me of ruining her daughter's life. My boyfriend witnessed the whole thing, but he told them I had fallen by accident when the police came. I died without ever seeing justice for myself. When I thought my life was finally over, I opened my eyes. I had returned to the day my cousin stole the money meant for Grandma's surgery.

We had been dating for ten years before my boyfriend, Shawn Jepson, agreed to marry me.  When the wedding photographer asked us to pose a few kissing shots, Shawn claimed he had germophobia and walked out on me.  I awkwardly apologized to the team.  Taxis were a rare commodity during blizzards, so I trudged through the snow to get home.  To my dismay, I stumbled upon Shawn tongue-deep into his crush’s throat in what was supposed to be our marital home.  “Just say the word, Casey, and I’ll leave Jessica.”  Later, word went around that Shawn searched the world for his ex-fiancee, begging her to return.

On our wedding day, my fiancée humiliated me in front of everyone. She postponed the ceremony, not for an emergency, but to throw a lavish wedding for her childhood friend's pet hamster. Dressed in my tailored suit, I got shoved off the stage and was laughed at by everyone. My mom couldn't take the humiliation. Her heart gave out, and no ambulance could save her. Days after we buried her, my fiancée reappeared, demanding that I donate a kidney to that friend. The surgery nearly killed me, leaving me broken and betrayed. It prompted me to end things with her. She spiraled into regret, tormenting herself to win me back.

I'm in the hills for a project inspection when a sudden downpour hits. I lose my footing and tumble down a steep slope. Lying in a pool of blood, I fumble for my phone and call my husband, Joel Grant, who's supposed to be nearby. "Rachel has anxiety. I only brought her back to her hometown to help her unwind. Can you stop being so paranoid and jealous for once? You're due in two weeks. I'll be there, okay? Just behave." In the background, I hear Rachel giggle softly. "The models have to be in their birthday suit for sketching, right?" Joel hangs up without another word. My sister-in-law—and best friend—Chloe Murphy finds me. She's sobbing as she cradles me, desperately trying to call her husband, Michael Grant, for help. "Are all pregnant women insane these days?" Michael snaps. "Don't start with the same manipulative crap as Anna. Joel and I are busy modeling for Rachel. We don't have time for your petty dramas." Then he blocks her. My injuries are too severe. There's no way help will arrive in time. Despite being heavily pregnant herself, Chloe hoists me onto her back and carries me down the mountain to the nearest hospital. Somehow, I survive. My baby doesn't. Chloe, devastated and physically pushed past her limits, loses her child too. "I want a divorce," I whisper with my eyes swollen from crying. "Me too. I'm done with Michael." We filed for divorce together. That's when Joel and Michael finally lose their minds.

"Jamie, I've decided. I'm ready to join you at Hillridge as your exclusive screenwriter. I'll be there by the end of this month!" Melanie huddled in a quiet corner on the set as she made the call, a pregnancy test report clutched in her hand. She tried to shake off the chill from the freezing weather, but her hands and feet still felt painfully cold. Jamie's voice at the end of the line was a deep and pleasant baritone. "Your talent has long deserved a bigger stage. For eight years, you've turned me down nearly a hundred times for Ken's sake. Are you ready to leave him this time?" "Yes. I'm leaving him for good!" She clenched the pregnancy test report, her lips a bitter smile.

My husband, a lawyer, tells his true love to deny that she wrongly administered an IV and insist that her patient passed away due to a heart attack. He also instructs her to immediately cremate the patient. He does all of this to protect her. Not only does Marie Harding not have to spend a day behind bars, but she doesn't even have to compensate the patient. Once the dust has settled, my husband celebrates with her and congratulates her now that she's free of an annoying patient. What he doesn't know is that I'm that patient. I've died with his baby in my belly.

After I confessed to my childhood crush, he smirked and said, "If you can get that loser to drink from the same bottle you did, I'll date you." Seriously? Was I really reborn fifteen years ago? I raced over to Noah—top of the class and hot as hell—and dropped the water bottle on his desk in front of everyone. He clocked the lipstick stain, face turning crimson. Future business mogul? Right now, he looked like some poor kid waiting to get crushed. I nudged the bottle closer. "Using that genius brain to collect bottles for cash? Kinda tragic. Be my private tutor instead." He might be broke, but lucky for him, I've got money to burn.

My best friend and I married the Luther brothers. I married the older brother, a legendary specialist in childbirth. My best friend, Autumn, married the younger brother, the CEO of a pharmaceutical company. On my birthday, my husband’s crush, Kirsty, scared me into early labor by sending me the carcass of a rotten, dead cat. Autumn rushed me to the emergency room. The doctors had their hands tied as I went into premature labor with a case of amniotic fluid embolism. With the last of my strength, I turned to my husband for help. Instead, I was berated. “So I missed your birthday. Do you have to make a big deal out of it? Why are you lying to me? Kirsty’s pet dog is having puppies. I need to help with the birth, so stop getting in the way!” Later, Autumn took charge and operated on me. I managed to pull through, while my baby was rushed to the ICU. Autumn tearfully called her husband, pleading for the specific medication produced by his company. “Kirsty’s dog is struggling in labor. I’m making a nutritious meal for it. You sure are good friends with Bella to take turns stirring up a fuss. Don’t you have anything better to do than act out in jealousy?” In the end, I lost my child. My heart shattered into pieces. “I want a divorce, Autumn.” “I’m with you! The cheating bastards don’t deserve wives.” We filed for divorce, and the brothers panicked.

When the gas cooker exploded and Sharon Milton was close to death, only her five-year-old son, James Collins, was at her side. Her spirit stood next to James and looked at him as he sobbed and called Sean Collins. He begged Sean to come home and save his mommy. However, Sean only scolded him and told him not to lie like Sharon before hanging up. James wiped the tears from his eyes and called 911. When the ambulance finally arrived, Sean appeared and stept in. "Daddy, Mommy is bleeding out and needs the ambulance. Please don't take it from her!" "You little liar. Looks like your mom hasn't taught you very well. Step aside! Riley is due. She needs this ambulance more than Sharon!" James's eyes had turned red due to all the crying, but Sean pushed him away and left without even taking a look back. He got into the ambulance with Riley in his arms. "Daddy... Daddy! Please save Mommy!" James sobbed as he chased after the ambulance, but he didn't see the speeding truck that was heading towards him. Sharon shouted her son's name and wanted to push him away, but there was nothing she could do. She could only watch as James was run over by the truck. Beneath the wheels, there was a pool of blood spreading across the ground. Sharon was about to lose her mind. Over the past years, Sean had abandoned Sharon and James countless times for Riley Winston and her daughter. Whenever Sharon and Sean had an argument about this matter, Sean would always just say that he was repaying Riley's father for saving his life. Sharon just felt that Sean didn't know what he was doing. What she didn't expect was that he didn't care about her and James's lives at all. Sharon felt that she was the one who killed James. Her heart ached as she took her last breath. If there was another life, she just wished that she had nothing to do with Sean.

My husband, an anesthesiologist, deliberately increases the sedative dosage on an accident victim so he can get a new heart for his first love, Selena Quigley. After her operation, he cares for her and celebrates her rebirth. He only remembers to contact me after she's recovered. "It's been three months since we saw each other, honey. You shouldn't be mad anymore, right? Why don't you book a flight for tomorrow so you can come home? I'll pick you up at the airport." I won't be going home anymore, though. Not now, not forever. I've already died on his operating table.