Good Morning Sweetheart

My husband sends me a photo of our obedient daughter holding a plate of food. He writes, "Thanks to my patient guidance, our sweetheart has finally made her first dish! We're waiting for you to come home and taste it!" The exhaustion I feel from work is swept away when I see that. No one expects that I'll reach home half an hour later and kill him.

It's my third wedding anniversary with Eanes Lambert. However, he and his childhood sweetheart put on a public display of affection on their social media. "My heart beats for you and you only." I like the post and share it, but the original post is immediately deleted. Later, Eanes calls me to tell me off. "I was just comforting her because she was in a bad mood. Do you have to be so petty? What else can you do other than get jealous of others?" The next second, I receive a photo of him and his childhood sweetheart kissing passionately. She's the one who's sent it to me. In the past, I would've stormed over there to kick up a fuss. Now, however, I merely choose to leave Eanes. I'll let him have what he wants.

I found out I was pregnant at the same time as my mafia husband’s childhood sweetheart Rosa. To protect her baby from being aborted by her parents, my husband claimed her baby as his own. As for mine? He coxed me, saying he will claim only after her baby was born. I confronted him, demanding to know why he would do this to me. His response was cold and unwavering: “Claiming her baby as mine was the only way to protect them both. I won’t let anything happen to her or the child.” In that moment, as I looked at the man I had loved for ten years, I realized my love for him had died. Not long after, my family condemned me, calling me a slut for having a child without a father and pressured me into getting an abortion. Meanwhile, my husband was in another city, with his sweetheart, helping her through her pregnancy. By the time he returned, I was already gone.

For the nursery's Family Day, my husband, Gary Lane, said that he was busy at work and told our daughter, Emily Lane, and I not to participate in the event. I looked at Emily's disappointed face, my heart ached. Therefore, I decided to take Emily to the event myself. As soon as we arrived at the nursery, we saw Gary carrying a little boy in one hand and holding his childhood sweetheart, Shannon Harvey's hand in the other. They looked like a family of three and were very happy. That was until they saw me and Emily. Gary furrowed his brows a little and then let go of Shannon's hand. "Don't get me wrong, Jasmine. It's not easy for Shannon to raise a child as a single mother. It's the child's fifth birthday today. She wanted him to experience some fatherly love." I looked at him meaningfully, squatted down, and held Emily's hand. "Honey, say hello to Mr. Lane."

I spent six months and over $20,000 to plan a family vacation. However, when my mate’s childhood sweetheart Victoria heard about our trip, she begged to join us. Alexander didn't hesitate. He cancelled my spot in the protected convoy and gave it to her instead. He forced me to travel alone through deadly Shadow Pack territory - a thirty-six hour journey where three wolves had died last month. The whole family supported Alexander's decision without a thought for my safety. So I changed my travel plans. I headed north instead of south. I spent three months enjoying myself, ignoring their mindlink message. That's when the family started to panic...

On the day of our wedding, Liam Hopkins’ childhood sweetheart stood by the bridge, threatening to take her own life. The moment he hung up the phone, he was ready to leave. Desperately, I clung to his sleeve. “Liam, if you walk out that door, it’s over between us!” “Diana! This is a matter of life and death. I’ll marry you, but don’t make a scene!” With those words, he turned and rushed away, leaving me standing alone. Determined, I spun around and completed the wedding vows with another man. But later, he dared to ask why I didn’t wait for him. I laughed coldly. “Belated love? It’s cheaper than dirt.”

The fertility clinic called to inform me that my embryos were ready for transfer. I touched my abdomen, still numb from the anesthesia of that morning's egg retrieval. Even with cutting-edge medical technology, embryos couldn't be prepared this quickly. Before I could call back to clarify, my husband stopped me. "Mom's been pressing us hard. I pulled some strings to fast-track the process so you can get pregnant sooner. Imagine twins! My buddies will be green with envy." Silent, I drove straight to the clinic and dialed 911 on the way. "Hello? I'm reporting a fertility clinic involved in illegal surrogacy."

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…

After I come back to decades ago, the first thing I do is feed a million-dollar production patent to the pigs. In my previous life, I handed that patent over to the government. My husband turned me in, accusing me of faking the data and scamming a fortune in patent royalties. Overnight, I went from being a celebrated genius researcher to a lying thief that everyone despised. As I prepared to pull out my manuscript to prove my innocence, my husband's childhood sweetheart beat me to it. She waved it in front of everyone and accused me of misconduct and plagiarism. My husband took her side, reprimanding me, "I know you've always been jealous of Juni for being well-educated, but I can't believe you were bold enough to steal her hard work. What are you going to do next? Embezzle state funds?" I couldn't defend myself. No matter what I said, no one chose to believe me. The other researchers assaulted me so badly that I bled out and died. After my death, my husband and his childhood sweetheart took my patent without a second thought. The never-ending stream of patent royalties made them rich and powerful. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the very day she accuses me of stealing.

As soon as my husband sat at the dining table, he couldn't stop himself from talking. The humiliations of my school days had become his favorite entertainment, served up to his drinking buddies like appetizers. "Back then, she got her clothes torn off in the bathroom, beaten so badly she crawled on the ground like a dog, too terrified to make a sound. If it weren’t for my kindness—" That was it. I couldn’t take it anymore. I told him I wanted a divorce. He laughed it off, utterly unbothered. "Seriously? It’s just a joke! That was ages ago. You’re way too uptight—it’s just for a laugh, right?" For a laugh? Was I the only one with a past? Did he think he was untouchable? Maybe I should tell a few embarrassing stories about his precious childhood sweetheart. Fine. If it’s all about “fun,” I hoped his sweetheart found it equally hilarious when her turn came.