Good Grief Meaning

I married Mason Fleming, who comes from a prestigious family with a long line of lawyers, at 19. For over 20 years, I devoted myself fully to our home by raising our child, keeping the household together, and supporting his career. Now I'm 40, and he cheats on me. Friends and relatives try to advise me. "Your husband is handsome and successful. He even lets you manage the money he earns. Compared to most men, he's considered one of the good ones." In other words, they want me to turn a blind eye and continue playing the role of a "good wife" to maintain appearances. But I can't keep up with the act anymore.

I did three years in prison for my wife, Lilian Parson. The day I got out, she handed me an envelope for her company's grand opening. Inside was a single dollar bill. For a second, I thought it was a mistake. Then I saw her colleague, Nathan Ramsey, holding his envelope—his also contained a single dollar. Relieved, I pushed my doubts aside. I smiled, stood by Lilian's side through the entire ceremony, the picture of a proud, supportive husband. That night, scrolling through Instagram, I saw Nathan's latest post. A photo of a check. [Congratulations to Lilian Parson on the grand opening! So generous—100 million as a gift!] The comments section exploded with envy and blessings, congratulating him and "the boss" on finally becoming a couple. Lilian offered no explanation. Instead, she hurried to draw a line between us. "You just got out of prison," she said coolly. "It's not a good look to go public right now. Let's keep our marriage a secret. In front of others, just call me your boss." Then she turned around and liked Nathan's post. I wiped the tears from my eyes, picked up my phone, and dialed the number of her greatest rival. "From now on, I work for you," I said.

I'm a dance major who's preparing for her exams. Everyone thinks I'm a good girl, but there's one thing they don't know about me—I've fantasized about being violated more than once…

When my colleagues find out that I'm pretty good at cooking, they start organizing dinners at my place. Lucy Holt, one of the junior accountants, suggests that we split the groceries evenly between us. As a result, I don't think I can reject their request without being rude. On my last day of work, the group gathers at my place for one last meal. "You're such a good cook, Jess! We'll all be transferring you 500 dollars later. It's just a token of our appreciation," Lucy declares with a bright smile. But the very next day, she sends me a message. "Hey, Jess. You know it's illegal to operate an unlicensed catering business from your home, right? Your house will get sealed off for further investigation. More importantly, the value of goods has passed the threshold of 10,000 dollars, which means the fine you'll have to pay is probably going to be about 20 times that amount. "Since we worked together, we decided not to report you to the authorities. We'll just settle this matter privately. All you have to do is give us the fine you would've had to pay instead." This is how I realized that, combined with yesterday's meal, the total amount they've given me for groceries thus far is exactly 10,001 dollars.

Hilda Oakley, the charity case Mom and Dad take in, steals my family right out from under me. She slips drugs into me, driving me into a bipolar disorder. She turns me into someone who snaps and screams at Mom and Dad without meaning to. She paints me as someone rotten inside, as the bully at school, and as someone who'd shove her down the stairs at home. And because of that, my whole family turns on me. Mom calls me a bad seed. Dad says I'm no daughter of his. Then, they adopt Hilda and throw me out in the dead of winter. My bipolar flares. Naked, I sprint onto the rooftop and jump to my death. When I'm reborn, I realize I can make the thoughts in other people's heads audible. So, at the dinner table, I let Hilda's thoughts spill right before Mom and Dad. 'I kept that witch Valerie drugged for three years. She finally broke! They still don't suspect that Alex isn't really her brother. He's Susan's son. Once we poison Valerie's parents, the Coopers' fortune will belong to us.'

In my previous life, my husband suffered a sudden brain hemorrhage and died instantly in his office. When I arrived at the hospital, all that awaited me was his lifeless body. Overwhelmed with grief, I coughed up blood and was bedridden ever since. On my deathbed, I happened to see a news report—my husband had won a $15 million lottery. Standing beside him at the prize ceremony was none other than my best friend. The shock killed me on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my husband had just died.

Andrea Reeves, the new hire in finance, is all looks and no brains. On payday, she mistypes my wages in the payroll system, sending only one cent to my account. Because of that, my payment fails when I try to buy Mom's life-saving medication, and she dies full of regret. Before I can confront Andrea, she bursts into tears, smudging her mascara and makeup. "Ms. Walton, I'm so sorry. I accidentally sent your pay to the janitor you fired. The one who's a single mom. Can't you just think of her as your other mom?" Norman Halt, the finance director—and my husband—immediately shields her behind him. "Don't blame Andrea. If you didn't have enough money saved up, why are you pretending to be the dutiful daughter now?" I nearly faint from crying so hard. Wracked with guilt, Andrea shows up at the funeral with an entire marching band in tow. The mourning hall turns festive and lively, leaving my family and friends stunned. I lose it and yell at her to leave, but she looks completely hurt. "It's already so tragic that she dies from an illness. I just want to give her a joyful send-off!" Furious, the asthma I've managed for years flares so abruptly that my hands shake as I take out my inhaler. She slaps it away and screams, "How could you use such illegal substances? That's against the law!" Blue-lipped and gasping, I crumple to the ground. In my final moments, I hear Andrea's tearful voice. "This is all my fault. I'm an idiot… I didn't realize it's just medicine…" Norman covers for her. "It's not your fault. Spread the word that Ms. Walton died of grief over her mother's passing." That night, my body is cremated. My death goes silent and unnoticed. When I open my eyes again, it's payday all over again.

In my previous life, everything I do to care for myself somehow ends up benefiting my new housekeeper instead. I apply expensive skincare, yet dark spots and fine lines spread across my face, whereas the 45-year-old housekeeper's face becomes silkier. I jog every morning, yet my body only grows heavier and bulkier, while hers becomes slender and toned. When my husband notices the stretch marks on my abdomen, his face twists with disgust, and he never touches me again. "I genuinely can't bring myself to touch you. How can you look worse than Mirabelle when you take such good care of yourself?" My housekeeper looks at me with a sinister smile. A chill crawls up my spine, and the strange feeling makes me fire her on the spot. Yet, as soon as she leaves, I start aging at lightning speed, entering menopause 20 years early and developing diabetes and high blood pressure. I see every doctor I can, but after hanging on for a week, I die from a stroke. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day she first reports to work. This time, I push away the royal jelly she sets in front of me with a pleasant smile. "I've been avoiding certain foods lately. You can have it instead."

My sister-in-law is eight months pregnant. One day, she gets pushed to the ground and starts bleeding heavily. She's then taken to the hospital right away. As I drive by, I quickly roll up the window and pretend not to notice. I step on the accelerator and speed away. In my past life, though, things were different. The moment I saw her collapse, I sprang into action and took her to the hospital without delay. She was in critical condition. After the heavy bleeding, she developed amniotic fluid embolism. My husband was the city's top obstetrician. Thus, I called him urgently, pleading for him to come straight to the hospital. However, he accused me of jealousy. He was having dinner with his first love's family, after all. He claimed that I was exploiting my sister-in-law's accident to force him to come back. By the time my in-laws arrived, my sister-in-law had already succumbed to the amniotic fluid embolism. Her family blamed me for her death, convinced I had stirred trouble with my husband and brought about her demise. Having just returned from out of town, my brother-in-law believed their accusations without question. Overcome with grief, he stabbed me to death at the funeral. Opening my eyes again, I realize I've been transported back to the very day my sister-in-law is knocked down.

Jayden Dela Cruz, a pampered and arrogant heir, finds himself forcefully thrown into a harsh reality when his mother disowns him, leaving him to fend for himself in the unforgiving streets of Los Angeles slums. He is forced to seek help from Gabriella Torres - an orphan whom he had once ridiculed and ruined her chances at a good life. He discovers an unexpected friend in her and she teaches him the true meaning of life and love.