I Wet My Panties

As the end of the year approaches, my wife, Sylvia Small, who is five months into her pregnancy, accidentally falls into a lake. Our neighbor who is a police officer, Raven Weber, jumps in and rescues her. Unfortunately, she slips into a coma after her heroic feat. As I rush over, I see that a crowd has gathered at the scene. Sylvia is drenched from head to toe, wrapped up tightly in a blanket. Water droplets keep dripping from the tips of her hair. "Are you alright, Sylvia?" I ask, drawing near. The moment Sylvia sees me, she moves toward me and burrows herself into my arms. She clings to me like she is clinging for dear life. "You're finally here, Zach!" she exclaims emotionally. I frown and push her away. "Just say what you have to say. This suit is expensive. Don't dirty it," I said indifferently. My words make Sylvia's eyes go wide with disbelief and shock. But that only lasts for a second before an anxious look replaces it. She holds my arms firmly and says in a choked voice, "Officer Weber is in a coma because of me. Please transfer a sum of money to me so that I can thank her for saving my life." I glance at Sylvia impatiently and reply, "What's that got to do with me? Why should I transfer you my money so that you can give it to her?"

For three long years, I was trapped in a toxic relationship with Edwin Kent.During those three years, he started by verbally insulting and controlling me, but eventually escalated to physical violence. Not only did he drain my finances to support his family and lavish my money on his "goddess", but he also impregnated me three times, leaving me to face the emotional and physical toll of abortions alone.Despite the repeated disappointments, I remained blind to the truth. It wasn't until one day when I overheard him asking his goddess, "When will you become my girlfriend?"His goddess laughed and asked, "Aren't you already in a relationship with her, scum?"Edwin nonchalantly responded, "She's the one who won't let go of me. I've always loved you."That was when reality finally slapped me in the face. I left behind my scarred heart and returned to the embrace of my wealthy family.But Edwin refused to let me go. He persistently challenged the boundaries of me and my family.Finally, I couldn't tolerate it anymore. Trash should be thrown into the garbage dump, not wandering around and bothering people.

On the night of Halloween, my best friend, Mina Corvelle, rushes to save the black cat before me, triumph dancing in her eyes. That is when I, Elora Aldridge, realize that she has been reincarnated, too. In my past life, she scorned the stray for being filthy, so she kept her distance. So, it was I who took pity on the cat and rescued it. When I walked past an old blind woman manning a roadside stall, she told me that the cat was a rare dark fortune cat. Once it recognized a master, it would draw dark riches from all directions and bring unimaginable wealth. I dismissed it as superstition. Yet, the very next day, I was inexplicably promoted to director of the department. Soon after, my family's dilapidated old house found itself part of a redevelopment scheme, and we were given compensation of eight apartments and 30 million dollars in cash. Even the enigmatic golden boy of Lakeshire, Cassian Mercer, started to pursue me relentlessly, declaring that he would only marry me and no one else. But not long after I married Cassian, Mina trapped me—and the black cat—inside the apartment. She then set it on fire, burning us alive. Outside the inferno, she screamed, "Why should you get everything without even lifting a finger? All those riches should've been mine!" When I open my eyes again, I find myself back at the very intersection.

I came home from a night shift and caught my husband in bed with his secretary. After the screaming and the chaos, I ran out like a woman losing her mind. Derek chased after me. We ended up at the river, fighting. Somehow we both fell in. He nearly drowned trying to save me—the doctors said the oxygen deprivation had caused severe brain damage. When he woke up, he could barely function. No memory. No independence. He followed me around like a lost child. "Wifey, don't leave me. I'm scared." Looking at that helpless, broken man, I gritted my teeth and held this family together. The secretary vanished without a trace. Six years passed. Derek slowly seemed to recover. He was gentle with me, attentive, loving. I even got pregnant with our second child. Then came the family dinner. Derek knocked back two glasses of whiskey and suddenly slammed his hand on the table, his face twisted with frustration. "My oldest boy is already in first grade, and I haven't made it to a single parent-teacher conference!" I thought his brain was glitching again. MY sister-in-law Vanessa rushed to cover his mouth, but he shoved her away and let out a cold laugh. "You really thought the water scrambled my brains?" "Chloe gave me a son. I haven't forgotten about him for a single day!"

I slipped into a vegetative state because of an accident. For the next five years, my wife, Ella York, remains devoted to me. She turns down all of her admirers and has chosen to raise our child on her own. At the same time, she exhausts herself from taking care of me to the point that she suffers from stomach bleeding. Everyone advises her to find a new man to settle down with. But Ella exclaims in a choked-up tone, "I'll always be Zack's wife for as long as he lives!" When I miraculously wake up from my comatose state, the first thing I do is file for a divorce under the condition that Ella leaves this marriage without a cent to her name. All of my family, friends, and relatives are pissed off at me, to say the least. "You bastard! Ella has stayed by your side for the past five years! How dare you cast her out the moment you wake up!" As I gaze at Ella's tear-streaked face coldly, I say to everyone else, "Go ahead and check the security footage at my son's kindergarten. Then, you'll understand how Ella has taken care of me over the past five years."

My husband Dante, Don of the Moretti family, was killed in a gang crossfire. I was devastated, because the same day, I’d also found out that my IVF injection had worked. I was pregnant. The Moretti didn’t want me to spiral. So they called in Dante’s twin brother, Ash Moretti, to help around. I felt both guilty and grateful until I overheard them talking in the study. “It was Ash who died. Why would you make us tell Harper it was you?” His father asked. Dante’s voice. “I only married her because you promised me the Don’s seat.” Then Gianna’s voice. “Dante had given her a child. That alone should’ve been enough.” So. It wasn’t my husband who died. It was his brother. And my husband and his sister in law thought this was his clean exit. As he wished, I gave it to him. When the doctor told me the fetus had less than a ten percent chance of survival, I agreed to terminate. And along with reclaiming everything else I had once given the Moretti, I walked away from his life—for good.

During a company team-building event, I collapse from a seafood allergy. Yet my fiance, Frederick Scott, rushes Beatrice Sutton, who only twisted her ankle, to the hospital. I come close to dying because I don't get treatment in time. Later, Frederick explains, "Beatrice is my best friend's sister. He's seriously ill now, and I promised him I'd take care of his sister. I swear I'll keep my distance from her from now on." This isn't the first time I've heard an excuse like that. On our fifth anniversary, Beatrice accidentally deleted a work file and burst into tears out of worry. When Frederick heard about it, he left me stranded on a mountain and drove back to the office himself. I spent a whole day and night walking home through the rain. On Christmas, Beatrice's house lost power. Frederick was worried that she might be scared of being alone, and he rushed over to her place without even telling me, leaving me out in the snow waiting for him until dawn. These kinds of things have happened countless times. Afterward, he always brushes them off with the same excuse. I've long since lost all faith in him and no longer believe a single word he says. I pick up my phone and call the company that keeps reaching out to me. "I've decided to accept your offer from last time. I'll bring the core technology with me."

My parents died when I was ten years old, but a big shot in Jade City adopted me. It was rumored that Sean Graham was a cruel and violent man, but he doted on me for nearly ten years. He booked the advertising screens in the city to celebrate my birthday and promised to marry me when I got drunk and pestered him about it. I called him Uncle Sean at his request. Fear gripped me when I woke up in his bed every morning, but I kept it a secret. Yet one time, we accidentally slept with each other. I got pregnant with his child and wanted to keep it, but I knew I would not live for much longer. One day, I heard his conversation with a servant. “Clean up Zella’s room for Yulia.” “But Mr. Graham, Miss Cooper has been staying there for ten years. Didn’t you design it for her?” “No, I only let her stay there because Yulia had gone abroad.” I touched my belly as disappointment gripped me. It turned out that the man who had promised to provide me with a home as long as he lived wanted to drive me away.

In the ninth year after I married Charlie Lockwood, he brings his first love, Cecilia Moore, back home. She is gentle, beautiful, and understanding. Everyone treasures her like she is some precious gem. Right under my nose, Charlie begins to develop feelings for her. The household gradually comes under her control. Even my two children, whom I cherish dearly, would rather have Cecilia as their mother. Just when I am completely disheartened, I discover my true identity. With how things are in the Lockwood household now, there is no longer anything here that is worth staying back for. Without hesitation, I file for divorce and return home to take over my family business.

I was given a second chance on the day my mate chose another she-wolf over me. In my last life, I fought to keep him. I begged, argued, and stood in his way, only to watch him blame me for everything he lost. On the day of our bonding ceremony, he made me pay for loving him. This time, I didn’t cry. I didn’t beg. When he wanted to take her to the Frost Territory, I packed his bag myself. When she smiled behind his back and called me replaceable, I let her. If he loved her so much, I would step aside. But the day he finally realized I was no longer waiting at the altar, I had already walked into another ceremony, in another pack, beside a man who had never once made me feel second best. My old mate thought I was teaching him a lesson. He was wrong. I was setting myself free.