Homewrecker

It happened on Thanksgiving Day. I was on my way to my girlfriend's house when a car slammed straight into mine. The road was deserted, not a single person was around. The doors were jammed shut from the impact, and flames were licking toward the engine. I fumbled for the safety hammer, only to find that someone had replaced it with a toy hammer shaped like a cartoon bear. Panicking, I called my girlfriend. But before she could even pick up, her ringtone started playing from the car that had just hit me. Luna Hill stepped out, hand in hand with her childhood sweetheart, Julian Ford. Julian put on a show of alarm. "Oh no, I'm such an idiot! My first time driving, and I already hit a car." When Luna saw that it was me in the crushed car, she quickly tried to calm him down. "It's fine. He probably did it on purpose." I pounded on the window, shouting for her. "Luna, the safety hammer's been switched out! Please, help me get out!" Julian burst into a grin. "Sebastian, that was me! The little bear hammer's adorable, isn't it?" Luna's face twisted in disgust. "You're fine. Stop being dramatic. Figure it out yourself." Thick smoke was billowing inside the car, and it was about to explode. I begged her to get me out. Julian chuckled. "Sebastian, are you cooking in there or what? That smoke's killing me!" He patted his stomach and said with a laugh, "Man, I'm starving. Luna, let's go home and eat." Luna hooked her arm through his and tossed a parting line over her shoulder. "Enough already. My parents are waiting for us to start dinner." Just as I was about to pass out from the smoke, I slammed my hand on the car's emergency button.

After my fiancée returned from six months of traveling with her childhood friend, she realized I had changed. For his sake, she broke protocol and promoted him to be the CEO's personal assistant. I obediently stepped aside and gave up my position. When he took over the project I had spent three sleepless months completing, I handed it over without a fight. My fiancée found my sudden compliance strange. Her childhood friend, on the other hand, was smug about it. He said with a grin, "Looks like your cold treatment finally worked. If you want him to behave, you just have to train him like a dog." My heart was calm and unmoved as I listened to their conversation. No one knew that I had been reborn. No one knew that I had finally accepted the truth: she never loved me from the start. No matter how reluctant I felt, from this moment on, I would cut ties with her completely. One clean break, free of all entanglements.

Anya Sawyer and I have been married for eight years. In that time, she brought 99 men back home. One day, I found myself looking at the 100th young man she had brought home ever since we got married. He shot me a taunting look before turning to Anya. "Ms. Sawyer, is this your useless husband?" Anya leaned into her seat and replied with a lazy yes. The young man patted my cheek with a grin. "Tonight, I'll show you what a proper man is capable of." … That evening, I was forced to sit in the living room and listen to their moans all night long. The next morning, Anya ordered me to prepare breakfast for her as usual. I refused. She seemed to have forgotten our marriage was by contract. That day just so happened to be the third-to-last day of our contract.

At the dinner on the third day after our wedding, my husband Ryan Lawson's adopted sister, Zelda Lawson, shoved a baby into my arms along with a legal document. "Victoria Sullivan, I know you can't have children, so I had one for Ryan. This baby is my wedding gift to you. Sign this custody agreement, and we can all still be one family." I did not take it. Instead, I turned to look at Ryan standing beside me. He stepped in front of Zelda protectively and said coldly, "Just sign it, Victoria. I can't let the family line end with me." As I looked at his matter-of-fact expression, I suddenly laughed. Since that was the case, this marriage was no longer worth keeping.

When the yacht begins to sink, Penelope Griffith chooses me to fill the last vacant spot on the lifeboat. I'm saved, but Arthur Johnson drowns before the second lifeboat reaches him. He disappears into the ocean, leaving only a corpse behind. Penelope pretends not to care and still marries me. Yet, she proceeds to trample all over me during our five years of marriage, blaming me for Arthur's death. When I can't take it anymore and ask for a divorce, she chooses to end both our lives. The next time I open my eyes, I realize that I've been transported back in time to the day of the yacht accident. I decide to forfeit my chance of survival this time, letting the man Penelope loves the most take my place.

My sister and I were caught up in a severe car accident during a family road trip down the mountain for the New Year. Shattered glass pierced straight through my heart. Amid the excruciating pain, my fiance and family insisted the rescue team take my sister, who only had a scratched arm, to the hospital first. As I cried out for them to save me, my fiance snapped at me. “Carol, you should know when to stop vying for attention! “Delila is bleeding so much. Why must you compete with her?” Dad shook his head and sighed while Mom looked at me with disgust. I forced my stiff neck to look over. They were all surrounding my younger sister. She only sported a faint red mark on her arm. No one saw the blood gushing from my chest. No one heard my fading heartbeat. I died during that snowy, bitterly frigid night. When they finally remembered me and came across my cold body, my fiance and family went mad.

On the third day after my death, Eliza Sutton received the call to claim my body. She was resting in another man's arms. She said nonchalantly, "He's dead, huh? Just cremate it and call me afterward." My body was fed to the flames and reduced to ashes. When the staff were done, they contacted Eliza again. Irritation flashed in her eyes as she snapped, "I heard you. I'm on my way."

On my 16th birthday, I treat myself to the most delicious cake I can find. On that day, before I can even take a bite, my parents, who are always at odds with each other, sign their divorce papers right in front of me. So, on my wedding day, I tell my wife, Keira Jarrett, "If you ever want a divorce, just get me a birthday cake." She hugs me tightly and promises me."Don't worry. 'Birthday' won't even be a word in our home anymore." Seven years later, on Keira's birthday, her assistant, Jackson Price, throws her a surprise party. She slaps him across his handsome, gentle face and kicks him out of Jarrett Group. That day, I am convinced I have chosen the right woman for life. But three months later, on my birthday, I find out the supposedly fired Jackson has been promoted to Keira's personal secretary. He personally delivers a custom-made birthday cake to me. I call Keira to demand an explanation, but her voice on the other end is cold and distant. "Jack meant well. Don't be a spoilsport." I freeze for a moment, then hang up. It turns out my parents are right all along. The only way a birthday cake tastes right is when it's served with divorce papers.

When I had just received an offer from a French ballet company, my right leg was amputated due to a car accident. My fiance could not accept my disability, so he married my competitor, Gabriella Smith. I was about to have a meltdown when my childhood best friend, Joe Anderson, carpeted my hospital room with roses and proposed to me with a diamond ring. Throughout our five years of marriage, he treated me extremely well and loved me as he did the very first day we married. I thought that he was a gift from God to compensate for my tragedy until I accidentally overheard his conversation with his friend. “Joe, I heard that Gabriella is the principal dancer of the top ballet company in Paris. If only you hadn’t turned Fiona into a cripple for her... Do you feel guilty?” “I feel guilty about it, that’s why I married her and treated her well. I’ll repay her with my life.” I grabbed the armrests of my wheelchair as I held back my sobs. The happy marriage that I thought I had was just a lie. The husband whom I thought loved me was the culprit behind my plight. He only loved Gabriella. If that were the case, I would give my blessings for them to be together!

On the day of the earthquake, my sister Elena shoved me off the third floor, then burst into tears and said she had only been trying to save me. Everyone believed her. The only person who stood on my side was Nicolo, the youngest mafia boss Sicily had seen in decades. He lifted me out of the rubble, then proposed to me in front of everyone and said that from that day on, anyone who touched me would answer to him. Two months later, I was pregnant. Nicolo bought an entire island and planted it with my favorite irises for our wedding. My father spent a fortune on a one-of-a-kind gown made just for me. Everyone said I was the most envied woman in the family. Then I went into labor, and both of them disappeared. My father said the family had a deal on the line. Nicolo kissed my swollen belly, murmured that he would be back soon, and promised to bring gifts for me and the baby. Right before I was wheeled into the delivery room, an anonymous video landed on my phone. Nicolo was wearing a groom's suit. Elena stood beside him with a hand resting on her pregnant stomach. She was wearing my wedding dress. Her arm was looped through my fiance's as if she had won him fair and square. At the end of the clip, my father asked in a lowered voice, "If you and Valentina stay married only on paper, what happens to the child she gives birth to?" Nicolo was quiet for two seconds before he answered. "Valentina grew up with everything. Elena spent her whole life carrying the stain of being illegitimate. Her child will not grow up the same way." So all that tenderness had never been for me. It had all been for Elena. Fine. They could have each other.