I'll Be Okay

All the relatives knew I had a "backward cousin." For my birthday, she gave me a grocery-store pound cake. When I ran a marathon, she presented me with a pair of worn-out canvas sneakers. At my graduate school acceptance party, she even sent a funeral wreath of white lilies with a sash that read "In Sympathy," wishing me an early departure to the afterlife. In my previous life, I slapped her so hard she tumbled down the porch steps. My brother took her side and plotted revenge, falsely reporting to the university that I had cheated on my SATs. My admission was revoked. "You're so modern. You know how things work," he sneered. "Plenty of people take a gap year. Just apply again." My father also defended her, cutting off all my financial support. "You've had so much schooling. You're so educated," he said coldly. "Support yourself." Alone in a city eighteen hundred miles from home, I fought to survive. I called my brother and my father again and again—only to be blocked. I delivered food while renting a room and studying to reapply. At my lowest, my hands were raw and cracked from frostbite, scrambling for delivery shifts at four in the morning just to earn a small bonus. Worn down by the cold and exhaustion, I suffered cardiac arrest at twenty-three and collapsed in a snowdrift in that unfamiliar city. No one ever came to claim me. This time, I chose to let it go and accepted the wreath with a gracious smile. To fully integrate myself into this family. After all, what is a moment of pride compared to a lifetime's inheritance?

On the day I was trying out my wedding gown, a stranger dashed into the VIP room and pushed me hard onto the ground. "I'm the real Mrs. John Curtis. Someone like you, with no money or a strong family behind you, should serve me instead." She looked down on me before kicking my pregnant belly with her sharp heels. The pain blurred my vision and made me break out in a cold sweat. Jolene Nostra crouched next to me and slapped me with the back of her hand. "You were only a jilted lover without wealth or influence, trying to wed into a rich family by getting pregnant." As blood flowed heavily from between my legs, a realization hit me. My fiancé, the person I'd been with for four years, was seeing another woman. "What's this? How dare you give me that look? I could kill you, and nothing would happen to me because I'm Mrs. John Curtis!" As she lunged towards me, I pulled out my phone with trembling hands to call my brother. "Come get me, Anthony. And tell our guys I want the Curtis family gone from South City."

“We’re sinners. If heaven exists, we’d never be allowed in. But you and I can rule hell together and I’d fuck you hard while we watch the world burn.” His cold lips left a hot trail of heat as it glided down her spine. “O- okay, Daddy.” She stuttered, gripping the sheets tightly and gasping for breath at the same time when fingers suddenly slid into her wet heat from behind. ~~~ She was betrothed to him since birth. Mya knew what was going to happen to her unfortunate life once she comes of age– she was going to be wedded to Angelo, a ruthless and dangerous Mafia Lord who makes the sky rain gore on a good day. And so on her wedding day, she eloped. That same day, she managed to turn into the most wanted criminal of the country. Mya went from running from Angelo, to being saved by him… but, not before paying a price. ———- Birthed by a monster and hardened by pain and violence, Angelo had turned into an emotionless psycho at the age of thirty-two. He had no intention of taking a bride from the onset, all he cared about was protecting his top spot in the country. In comes Mya– a supposed damsel in distress, only that this one has blood on her hands and scars maring her soul. Angelo was supposed to leave her to her wretched fate, but somehow, he found himself drawn to her. Perhaps, it was because there was something about her blue eyes that scratched at an instinct within him which he never knew existed. But she called him ‘Daddy’ once and nothing remained the same after that. Now he was going to protect her, fight her battles, and make her his queen.

“Just stay married to me for three years. After that, we divorce. In return, I’ll help you destroy your husband and the woman who took your child.” I agreed. Not because I was weak. But because I survived. I was once a devoted wife. Obedient. Loyal. Pregnant with a child I believed would save my marriage. Then his first love returned, and everything I trusted turned to blood and betrayal. We were rushed to the same hospital. I was bleeding. She was crying in his arms. There was only one operating room left. He chose her. He wheeled his mistress, his first love, into surgery and left me behind to miscarry alone. I lost my baby on a cold hospital bed while my husband held another woman’s hand. I divorced him. But some wounds do not heal. They sharpen. Now I have a contract marriage, a man with no love to give, and a plan written in patience and pain. I will take everything my ex-husband values, piece by piece, and make him beg for what he threw away. Forgiveness is for the dead. And I am very much alive. Watch out, husband. I will ruin you.

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.

My mother is gravely ill and needs a million dollars for surgery. I run all over the city, desperately trying to borrow the money. Just when I'm at my breaking point, my childhood friend shows up, holding a check for one million dollars. His condition? He wants to marry me. Everyone's waiting for me to say yes, but I calmly refuse. Because in my last life, even after I married him, my mother still died. Her surgery failed. Later, I accidentally overhear a conversation between him and a doctor. "Christopher, you sabotaged the surgery just to transplant Alice's mom's kidney into Jennifer? Was it worth it? If Alice finds out, you’re done." "I just want Jennifer to live. And honestly, marrying someone like Alice? My life is already over." That's when I realize our entire marriage was nothing but a carefully woven lie. He did it all for the woman he truly loved.

Marshall Locke, the assistant working for my wife, Amelia Stone, leaves out three zeroes on a contract. It leads to ten million dollars in losses for the company. The factory that has collaborated with us on the project goes bankrupt, and its owner jumps off a building as a result of the situation. All Marshall does is shed a few tears, and Amelia immediately pins all the blame on me. She claims I single-handedly managed the entire project. I get sued in court, which leaves me ten million dollars in debt. When the deceased's family posts about me online, the entire internet curses me out, saying that I should die too. My entire industry blacklists me. The career I've painstakingly built up for myself is destroyed just like that. But when I confront Amelia about this, she simply looks at her freshly manicured nails and says airily, "Marshall is young and inexperienced. You've been in the business for so many years now. It's not like this has caused any damage to you." Recalling the way she and Marshall had been wrapped up in a passionate kiss before I came in, I pull out the divorce agreement I prepared in advance and toss it at her. "Sign it."

In my previous life, my husband, Lucien Walker, tells me he wants to take care of his widowed sister-in-law, Lina Morgan, and take her as his second wife. After I refuse, Lina throws herself off a cliff while pregnant, killing both herself and the pups. As the Wolf King, Lucien chains me on a clifftop and lets vultures tear at my flesh day after day. He gouges out my eyes and snarls, "You lied about your fertility to trick me, then drove Lina and her unborn pups to their deaths! This is your punishment!" My son, Pierce Walker, whom I pour my life into raising, stabs me 9,999 times. "If Lina were my mother, I would be strong. This is all your fault!" They never know that without my gift for bearing children, Lucien has no heir at all. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day Lucien proposes taking Lina as his second wife.

He is the unchallenged Alpha of the Shadow pack. He crushes my hand, lets his true love drive me to the brink, and forces me to lick wolfsbane from my wounds in the punishment chamber, turning me into the pack's laughingstock. I am the Lunar pack's pawn in a political bonding. After enduring three years of humiliation and clutching enemy intelligence, I overturn his throne during the Moon Ceremony, making him watch helplessly as his beloved betrays him and his pack descends into chaos. Later, he backs down. He abdicates as Alpha and gets down on his knees at the pack's border every day, his voice hoarse from shouting, "I was wrong." I hold a blood-stained dagger, my gaze icy as I say, "Your regret is deadlier than wolfsbane and worth even less than my life." Our bonding is a calculated trap, and revenge is the move I am determined to play. Winning him back no longer matters. This time, I am not turning back. I want nothing but his endless remorse and the chance to break my chains and begin a new life.

Cory Sullivan, my ten-year-old son, joins a swimming class organized by his school. A bunch of his fellow students end up pinning him to the drain of the swimming pool. I spot the streak of red in the water and completely lose my mind. I immediately dash over to save Cory, but by the time I do, his face has turned swollen and blue from the suction. Blood trickles from his mouth. He's no longer breathing. Andy Webster, the ringleader of the trio who hurt Cory, arrogantly declares that he won't be criminally prosecuted because he's a minor. "So what if I did it? He started getting on my nerves ages ago! Now that he's dead, no one else can compete with me to be the top in our class." Andy's father, Greg Thompson, condescendingly throws me a debit card. "There's 100 thousand dollars in there. That should be enough to make up for your son's worthless life." Outrage, I demand justice, but my wife, Sheryl Lowe, stops me. "Andy's just a kid himself. Are you going to force someone else's kid to lose his freedom just because your own son is dead?" I stop at nothing in the pursuit of justice, but Andy simply gets sent to a juvenile detention center. That's nowhere near enough for me. Eventually, I lose all hope. I lie down at Cory's grave and swallow a bottle of sleeping pills. Suddenly, my eyes open again. I've returned to the day I took Cory to the swimming pool. I immediately drag him off to take him back home before anything happens, but alas, a young boy still ends up losing his life at the pool.