Hypocrisy

When I was in the early stages of brain cancer, my parents begged me to give my sister one of my kidneys. They also told me to give them the money I had saved for my treatment. When my sister left the hospital, it was her birthday. My parents threw her a party while I lay in a hospital bed trying to get better. Later, when my mom found out I had late-stage brain cancer, she begged my sister to give me a kidney. My sister said no. So, on the day of my funeral, my mom buried both of her kidneys with me.

During a kindergarten parent-teacher conference, a rich wife accuses me of stealing her bag. I'm baffled. I bought the bag myself abroad, and it even has my name etched on it. However, when I scrutinize the bag, I discover that my name is missing. I call my husband, and he impatiently says, "I gave your bag to Jen. She's fresh out of college and needs an expensive bag to make herself look good. Even Finn said the bag is too young for you—it suits Jen more. You're too old for these things. You should be glad to even have a fake one." I bark out an exasperated laugh. I can go without having a husband, but the bag has to be returned to me.

Astrid was aware that her daughter, Coco, loved her father. The problem was that the father, Isaiah, did not love her, nor did he love Coco; he only ever allowed Coco to address him as uncle. After Isaiah dismissed the three chances Coco gave him, she decided she was going to leave him for good. It was only then that Isaiah changed his mind and started pleading desperately, “My dear, I want nothing more than to hear you call me your father.”

I suffer from a hereditary form of amnesia. By the time I found out, I had only seven days left. On the first day, I found my boyfriend had fallen for my younger twin sister. With a bitter smile, I suggested we break up. On the second day, my most treasured Lego set was smashed by my sister. Everyone laughed at me, saying I was disgraceful, unworthy of being a daughter of the Fleming family. On the fourth day, I forgot that my sister was allergic to mangoes. She ended up in the hospital, and my parents glared at me with resentment. Even my ex-boyfriend accused me of being heartless. On the seventh day, I woke up in a hospital bed to see my father walking in with a stern expression. He demanded that I quit my job and devote myself entirely to taking care of the family, as nothing more than a housekeeper. But I only looked at them in confusion and asked softly, “Who are you?” When they realized I had truly lost my memory, they lost their minds.

On the way to get our marriage certificate for the twentieth time, Rolf Trivett regretted it once again. In eight years, this was our twentieth attempt to get the certificate. But every time we reached City Hall, he would always say he needed time to care for his seriously ill childhood friend and couldn't promise to marry me. This time, I couldn't take it anymore and asked him, "If she’s never going to get better, does that mean you’ll never marry me? What am I to you?" Rolf immediately lost his temper and yelled at me, "I've already promised to take care of her for life. Can you stop being so selfish? "Besides, we've been together for eight years. What difference does it make if we don't get this certificate?"

On Independence Day, I was on my way to my boyfriend's house when a car slammed into me. The stretch of road was deserted. The collision jammed my door shut, and the acrid smell of gasoline filled the air. My car was about to explode. I scrambled for the emergency hammer, only to find it had been swapped out for a pink toy mallet. Panic rising in my chest, I dialed my boyfriend's number. To my horror, his ringtone sounded from the very car that had crashed into me. He stepped out, arm wrapped around his childhood sweetheart. She put on a pitiful face, tears in her eyes. "Oh no, I'm so clumsy. It's my first time driving, and I hit someone." When my boyfriend realized the victim was me, he didn't hesitate to console her. "Don't worry. She must have collided with you on purpose." I pounded on the window, desperate. "Nick! The emergency hammer's been switched out. Help me get out of here!" His childhood sweetheart lit up with a mischievous smile. "Katie, I swapped it! Isn't the pink hammer super cute?" Disgust flickered across Nick's face. "It's just a little crash. Get out on your own." By now, thick smoke was pouring into the car, and the heat was searing my lungs. I begged him to save me. But the girl only giggled, covering her nose in mock annoyance. "Katie, why are you cooking in there? The smoke is awful." Then she patted her stomach. "Oops, my tummy is rumbling. Nick, let's go home and eat." He tightened his hold around her and turned to leave. "Enough already. Stop pretending. My parents are waiting for us at home." Just as suffocation closed in on me, I slammed my hand against the car's emergency distress button.

When my mom texted me, urging me to go home for a blind date, Charles had just finished with me. His warm breath brushed against the back of my ear, sending a tingling sensation straight to my heart. He wiped away the traces on my skin with gentle care, but when he spoke, his voice was chillingly indifferent. "Since Mrs. Shaw is pushing you, you should head back soon." I thought he was jealous, and a surge of sweetness filled my heart. I quickly grabbed his wrist, telling him my feelings. "Charles, I want to stay with you. I'm not going anywhere!" He froze for a moment, then let out a derisive laugh. One by one, he pried my fingers off. "You didn't actually think I was jealous, did you?" Tucking my damp, messy hair behind my ear, he remained as gentle as ever, but his words were almost cruel. "Rose is pure and innocent. I couldn't bring myself to touch her before marriage, so I used you to satisfy my needs. However, now, our engagement is set. She'll soon be my rightful wife. You're no longer needed."

My boyfriend gave me away to his arch-nemesis because he lost a bet. On the same night, I was driven to his arch-nemesis’ house. Before leaving, he expressed remorse, “Anya, just bear with it for a bit. I will come to pick you up in a month.” That night, the man pinned me to the bed and started unbuttoning my shirt. As he traced his cold fingertips against my collarbone, he said, deep and seductively, “So that’s the scumbag you fell for? Why don’t you be with me instead? I can give you everything you want.” I leaned forward and kissed him right away. “Sure.”

My husband and I have been legally married for five years. This is the tenth time he's canceled our wedding ceremony. This time? His student, Laura, is competing in her first international violin competition—and he 'needs' to be there. I still remember the last cancellation: an awards ceremony he had to attend with her. The time before that? She fell ill, and he stayed at her hospital bedside. The other times? I've lost count of the excuses, but it doesn't matter. The reason is always Laura. Her needs always outweighed my wedding. My marriage. My life. Fine. If he wanted to stand by Laura so badly, he could stay there forever. This hollow, five-year farce of a marriage? It's over.

After my third dive in search of my missing boyfriend, I suffer a miscarriage. When I wake up in the hospital and find out he's still alive, I rip out the IV and drag myself home. But as I approach the house, I overhear Beck Wilder talking to his friends. "Maren had a child with her ex-husband. Who knows if she's really over him? "I can't go through with the wedding without being sure. I'd rather set a trap to see if she'd risk everything for me." Someone hesitates. "What if she finds out you lied? She might get furious and leave you." Beck chuckles confidently. "She's a breeze to manipulate. I'll make her sign the marriage papers and host a lavish wedding. She'll be as meek as a kitten." Two weeks later, I leave the miscarriage report on the wedding dress and walk away. The once-proud heir of the Wilder family is left in tears, scouring every inch of Larkspur in desperate search of his runaway bride.