He Did It Again Huh Novels & Stories

My husband, Jaxon Murray, was a renowned medical expert and owned a big company. He was participating in a clinical drug trial when someone tampered with his medication. Under the influence, he ended up entangled with an intern—ninety-nine times, right there on the lab table. When he regained clarity, he rushed home, locked himself in the bathroom, and submerged himself in the tub without food or water as he waited for me to return from work. "Lauren," he said, "my medication was switched during the trial. I made a terrible mistake. But I paid her off and had her dismissed. She'll never appear before me again." I wept miserably, clutching my belly that had once again failed to carry life. And in the end, I chose to forgive him. Several months later, he crashed into a guardrail while answering a phone call, causing me to miscarry. The injury left me unable to conceive for life. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his voice choked with remorse. "Darling, I don't deserve you. I'm so sorry… We don't need children. We have each other, isn't that enough?" One day, I went to bring him lunch, only to find him in the next hospital room, cradling and feeding the woman he swore he'd never see again. "She's too weak to eat by herself," he said. "She has early-stage stomach cancer. There's no one else to take care of her… she's all alone." I chose to believe him. Again. Until one day, a pair of twins appeared in our home. Sophie Dixon knelt before me, wearing the postpartum gown he had once lovingly picked out for me, clutching my hand with tears streaming down her face. "It's all my fault. Please don't blame Jaxon. If you say the word, I'll leave with the children immediately." Jaxon grabbed my other hand, desperation thick in his voice. "Lauren, you've always been the kindest person I know. The children are still so young. How could Sophie possibly raise them alone? You wouldn't be that cruel… would you?" I looked down at the hands gripping mine from both sides, and suddenly, I laughed. "Jaxon, let's get a divorce. I wish you both a lifetime of happiness."

My husband, Gavin Chapman, is giving his secretary, Natasha Gardner, exactly what she wants. He's making her his wife. To pull it off, he fakes a lab accident, pretends to have amnesia, and brings her home. In his office, Gavin wraps his arms around Natasha and murmurs indulgently, "Not just Mrs. Chapman. Even if you want to pretend to be the vice president for a week, I'll let you." My eyes dim, but I let the lie go on. The next day, at a press conference, Gavin holds Natasha's hand and tells the world she's his real wife. He even threatens to kick me out of the company and take over all my research data. Dozens of cameras swivel toward me, waiting for my outburst. But I stay silent and simply sign the termination papers. Gavin doesn't know that the pharmaceutical project he believes will be done in seven days isn't quite finished. There's still one final step, and I'm the only one who knows how to do it.

My fiance called me to post bail after he was arrested. When I arrived, however, I was informed that he was caught in a compromising position. "I came to protect Lily because I was worried for her safety," my fiance retorted, putting an arm around her shoulder. "But her boyfriend didn't believe me. Or is it the same for you too? Go post bail already." Nonetheless, I spied the lacy underwear poking out ever so slightly over his belt. In the past, I would have made a scene as I demanded an explanation. But now, I was as cool as a cucumber. When the cops asked what our relationship was, I paused in thought for a moment, before saying quietly, "His employer." Once I signed the papers, I texted my brother: [I'll go on that blind date. Schedule it for three days later.]

She thought escaping him meant freedom. It only meant silence… before the storm found her again. Emily built a life from nothing, poverty, pain, survival, until she finally had something worth protecting: a home, a fragile peace, and a son who became her entire world. But peace is fragile when your past knows your name. A single knock at the door. And everything she buried comes back breathing. He’s not just a man from her past. He’s the man who never stopped owning pieces of her. Cold. Powerful. Impossible to outrun. Emily thought she survived him once. Now he’s back, and this time, he isn’t asking. Because some men don’t move on. Some men don’t forgive. And some obsessions… don’t end. They wait.

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My mother-in-law has gotten kidnapped, and yet my husband, Josiah Broadway, decides to celebrate the success of his childhood sweetheart, Vivian Spencer's performance with her. The kidnapper has requested a ten-million-dollar ransom. If he doesn't receive the money in his bank account in an hour, he'll kill the hostage immediately. But my calls to Josiah's phone never go through. When there's only one minute left on the timer, Josiah calls me back calmly. "Since that hag is already that old, she might as well die. I'm not wasting my money on her." Just like that, my mother-in-law is thrown into the sea by the furious kidnapper. The search-and-rescue team has to resort to using long hooks in order to fish her corpse out of the sea. As soon as the body is delivered to the crematorium, Josiah sends me a voice message excitedly. "Have your mom's corpse sent to the studio! Vivian's performance needs a corpse anyway! Using a real corpse will make the whole performance seem more realistic!" I'm pissed off, to say the least. So, that bastard thinks that my mom is the one who died, huh? After that, I have my mother-in-law's corpse, which is completely disfigured from all the fishing and hooking, sent to the studio without any hesitation.

When Heaven's marriage shattered on live television and her husband announced his engagement to another person that same day, she was left broken, jobless and pregnant. Her last thread was the discovery of her new identity as the heiress of one of the most powerful families in the country. Not even in her dreams did Heaven expect she would have the chance to climb the ladder quickly and become rivals with her ex-husband seizing the chance to settle the score. Tormented by regret and haunted by past mistakes, Atlas will stop at nothing to win Heaven back most especially after he found out about their twins. But with secrets and betrayals lurking in the shadows, can he ever hope for a happy ending?

My husband had a bizarre obsession with role-playing. In every scenario he invented, I was always the devoted wife he eventually cast aside. One day, he became the ruthless CEO who fell for the nanny; the next, he turned into a respected professor who could not resist his students. Each time he handed me a divorce agreement, watched me sign it through tears, and then tore the papers to shreds the following morning with a satisfied grin. "It's just a game, babe." That changed when my mom was in a catastrophic car accident and needed 200,000 dollars for emergency surgery. Deep in character as a penniless failure, he said, "I'm flat broke. Where am I supposed to get that kind of money for your mom?" I watched my mother take her last breath because we couldn't pay the bill. On the day of her funeral, he arrived with a pretty college student on his arm. "I've fallen in love with one of my students. It's time we get divorced." He pulled a folder from his briefcase and handed me the agreement. This time, I didn't wait for him to rip it up.

Nathan Brooks had been tangled up with his secretary for far too long. All I did was ask one simple question. “Has Chloe Bennett resigned yet?” That was enough to make him hurl the glass in his hand at me. “You jealous, bitter woman,” he snapped. “Because of your jealousy, you drove Chloe away. “I told you I’m not divorcing you, Emily. Isn’t that enough for you?” I said nothing. I only looked down at the cut on my arm, where the shattered glass had sliced through my skin, then quietly bent down and picked up the broken pieces. What Nathan didn’t know was that I had already drawn up the divorce papers.

I was the prime suspect in the notorious murder of my parents-in-law in Cardinal City. The one who arrested me was my wife—Linda Reese, the police chief. While the verdict was still pending, the killer struck again. The new victim was murdered with the same savage cruelty. Linda knelt before me, begging me to tell her the truth. I told her I didn’t know. The victims’ families screamed, demanding that I be carved into pieces. Three months later, Linda found me beside a garbage bin, bringing with her a memory-decoding device. Her hands trembled as she pressed two thin needles into my temples. “I’m sorry, Finn. I know you’re not the killer. I just want this slaughter to end. I don’t want anyone else to die. Let everyone see your memories—let them see what really happened back then.” But when she finished watching my memories, she collapsed to the ground, utterly broken, and fell to her knees.