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On our fifth wedding anniversary, Jacob Carter once again abandons me for his so-called first love, Wendy Miller. "Wendy's raising a child on her own. It's not easy for her. Can't you be a little more understanding? You're also a woman, aren't you?" Jacob said. In my previous life, that argument turned into a nightmare. He locked me in the house, and when a fire broke out, I was burned to death. After being reborn, I don't just give them my blessing. I pack my bags, walk out on my own terms, and apply to study architecture overseas. And now? Jacob's the one falling apart—crying and begging me not to go.

When divorce and betrayal turn into a real life fairy tale after a chance encounter with a movie star, Pearl’s life becomes a whirlwind when a love triangle she wasn’t prepared for changes everything. Rock stardom, romance and getting a second chance at life and love means everything when you have nothing to lose.

I dated my lawyer boyfriend for five years. He canceled our wedding. Fifty-two times. First time? His intern messed up some paperwork. He ditched me at the beach to fix it. I waited all day. Alone. Second time, we were mid-ceremony when he bolted. Heard that intern was getting heat from another lawyer and left me to face the guests and their stares. After that, every time we tried again, there was always some "emergency" with her. Always. I finally hit my limit. I was done. Packed up and broke it off. But the day I left Ainsley? He totally lost it trying to find me.

"Miss Hudson, we have prepared a corpse identical to you, just as you requested. It will be delivered to your wedding with Mr. Warhol in ten days." Hearing the voice on the other end of the line, Violet Hudson felt a small knot of tension unwind inside her. "Alright. Thank you." "You're welcome. This is our job. Please rest assured—no one will ever suspect a thing." With that guarantee, she exhaled, the weight on her chest easing just a little. After confirming the final details once more, she ended the call and pushed open the door to the private room. The noise inside had been a constant hum, a mix of voices overlapping, but the moment she stepped in, silence fell like a curtain.

Hayden Baxter's sidepiece comes up to me and throws yet another tantrum. "I love Hayden too much. Can't you let me have him?" Hayden sits quietly on one side but texts me, "Just say yes and humor her for a bit." I do as I am told, then wordlessly begin to pack up my stuff so I can move out of the home I share with Hayden. On my way out, I hear his friends jesting, "Elena is surprisingly obedient. Does this mean she'll abort her baby if you ask her to, Hayden?" Hayden raises a brow, looking nonchalant. "Want to place a bet on it? "I bet she'd whine and throw a fit at the hospital entrance in a week, only to give in and do as she's told." I don't argue. Instead, I quietly tap on my conversation with someone else. "Will you marry me?" "Yes."

On our fifth wedding anniversary, my husband, Damian Pyke, once again left me for his first love. He said, "Taking care of a child alone isn't easy for Waverly. You're both women—can't you show her some understanding?" Not only was I willing to understand Waverly Benson, but I was also ready to step aside entirely so they could raise her child together. So, I packed my bags and applied for an overseas architecture program through my workplace. However, he eventually regretted it, crying and begging me not to go.

My husband forces me to donate my remaining kidney to his true love. He wants to save her from death by uremia. I try to tell him that I have kidney failure—I'll die if I donate my kidney. However, he roars, "Stop playing your jealous games when Shawna is so gravely ill! Don't you have a heart?" Under his forcefulness, I'm taken to the hospital to get my kidney removed. Ultimately, I die in a corner of the hospital.

One month before my wedding to my boyfriend, he announced he wanted to have a child with his "first love." I refused, but he brought it up every single day. Two weeks before the ceremony, I received a prenatal checkup report. That’s when I discovered his so-called "first love" was already nearly a month pregnant. It turned out he’d never intended to seek my consent at all. In that moment, years of affection evaporated like smoke. So, I canceled the wedding, destroyed every trace of our memories, and on what should have been our wedding day, I walked into a closed-off research lab. From then on, he meant nothing to me.

After my older sister, Cecilia, and I hit adulthood, our parents dropped a bomb: one of us had to run the family business, the other had to marry into the Spencer family in Norwick City. Cecilia, blinded by greed, called dibs on the company without blinking. Problem was, she was all talk. Spent her days jet-setting and partying while the business tanked. Within a year, she'd burned it all to the ground. Me? I got the Spencer name and popped out two boys, locking in my spot as the rich wife. Cecilia couldn't handle it. Jealousy made her snap—she straight-up stabbed me at a family party. Next thing I knew, I was back on the day we had to choose. Cecilia didn't even pause. "I'll marry into the Spencer family. The business can go to Demi." I laughed. My poor, clueless sister—she had no idea she was walking straight into hell.

My husband finally thinks about me three years after my death. The reason? His childhood sweetheart's leukemia has relapsed, and she needs another bone marrow transplant. He comes to my place, wanting to make me sign a donor agreement. However, he finds that the place has long been vacated. He asks a neighbor about it. "Are you talking about Kristen? She's long dead! I heard it was because someone dragged her away for a bone marrow donation when she was already sick. She died a few days after returning home." My husband refuses to believe that. He thinks my neighbor and I have conspired to lie to him. He says impatiently, "If you see her, tell her I won't pay the medical bills for that child she's been raising if she doesn't come to see me in three days." My neighbor shakes her head when she sees how stubborn my husband is. She mutters, "The poor child has already starved to death, though…"