Independence

I wheel myself into the birthday celebration that Wales Price has thrown for me. The atmosphere is originally lively, but a brief silence descends when everyone sees me. The guests are there for different purposes, but celebrating my birthday is not one of them. "Is that Mr. Price's crippled fiancée, Joey Hertza?" "Yeah, but the one he really loves is Anna Giovanni. I saw them kissing in a corner earlier." They use their wine glasses to block their mouths as they speak loudly. They think I'm still the crippled deaf I used to be. They don't know that I regained my hearing last week. I can hear every mocking comment they make. Meanwhile, Wales stands there and allows it to happen. He doesn't stop the guests from talking about me. He seems to have forgotten that I only ended up like this while protecting him. I shoved him away when the accident happened and got trapped underneath the car myself. When I was rescued, Wales swore to stay with me and care for me for life. It's only been three short years since then, but he's already changed. I receive a message on my phone. "Ms. Hertza, the lifelike corpse that you've ordered is now complete. Reply to this message with your confirmation, and your death-faking service will be immediately effective. We will send the corpse to your and Mr. Price's wedding in five days." I don't even hesitate as I reply with my confirmation. Enjoy your wedding, Wales.

Just one week into my new job, I was wrongfully accused of cooking the books, and it cost me five years behind bars. After that, my wife found out she was pregnant. She insisted on having the baby and promised to wait for me to come home. Out of gratitude, I threw myself into work after my release. I did everything I could to give them a good life. It was until one day, I overheard a conversation between my wife and our son. “Mom, don’t let Dad come out with us. It’s embarrassing! Why did you pin Mr. Scott’s crime on him back then?! And now, the girl next door keeps making fun of me, saying my dad’s a criminal!” My wife gently pulled our son close and comforted him, saying, “I promised Mr. Scott I’d help him. Your dad’s so naive. He’ll never find out.” It turned out that my supposed happy life was nothing but lies and betrayal!

My sister abruptly returns to the country on the day of my wedding. My parents, brother, and fiancé abandon me to pick her up at the airport. She shares a photo of them on her social media, bragging about how she's so loved. Meanwhile, all the calls I make are rejected. My fiancé is the only one who answers, but all he tells me is not to kick up a fuss. We can always have our wedding some other day. They turn me into a laughingstock on the day I've looked forward to all my life. Everyone points at me and laughs in my face. I calmly deal with everything before writing a new number in my journal—99. This is their 99th time disappointing me; I won't wish for them to love me anymore. I fill in a request to study abroad and pack my luggage. They think I've learned to be obedient, but I'm actually about to leave forever.

At Ryder Quinn’s kindergarten parent-child sports day, I expected my husband, Michael Quinn, to be away on a business trip. Instead, I found Michael on stage, dressed in a ballet tutu, dancing as one of the "little swans" in the fathers’ performance. I had barely taken a step forward when a little girl in a floral dress darted into his arms, calling out to him in the sweetest voice, "Daddy!" There they stood: Michael, his assistant, Janine Carter, and her daughter—all in matching family outfits. The moment our eyes met, Michael quickly pulled away from her, fumbling for an excuse. "Janine’s a single mom. It isn’t easy for her. I was just helping out." I smiled, cold and steady, and handed him the divorce papers. "Then, do me a favor too, Michael. Stop wasting my youth."

I was six months pregnant when my husband, Michael Greene, shoved me off the edge of a yacht during a birthday party. Why? Because Lily Clement, his childhood sweetheart, had fallen into the water, and apparently, the yacht was too small for all three of us. After being pulled from the ocean, suffering from hypothermia and shock, I was taken to the hospital. Doctors determined that emergency surgery was necessary and required a family member's consent. However, no matter how many times they called, Michael never picked up. At the same time, lying in a hospital bed, I scrolled through Lily’s Instagram and saw the post she shared just hours earlier. It was a photo of the two of them, soaked but clinging to each other like lovers out of a movie. "Sometimes love comes from the most unexpected places. Thank you for always being there for me—quietly, selflessly, unshakably." That was all I needed. The day I was discharged, I left Michael a signed divorce agreement. If he wanted to be her knight in shining armor, I’d let him.

My husband's childhood sweetheart was diagnosed with a terminal illness. To fulfill her last wishes and let her experience the warmth of family, my husband, Aaron Turner, gave her my necklace. He even let her claim my birthday. Even our son started calling her "Mom" in private. He told me, "Chrishell, Sylvia is dying. Just give in to her, will you?" Whenever I asked him to spare even a little time and affection for me, our son, Lucas, would rush to speak on their behalf. "Mom, didn't you always teach me to be generous? Sylvia is dying. Why do you always make things difficult for her?" Over time, I stopped asking for anything at all. Then one night, I overheard my son speaking to his father after returning from the hospital. "Sylvia is so gentle and graceful. I wish Mom could be more like her." Aaron chuckled and affectionately brushed his hand over our son's hair. "Your mom may be a little strict, but it's all for your own good. Since you like Sylvia so much, how about we let her be your godmother?" So even the child I risked my life to bring into this world didn't like me. I lowered my gaze, quietly closed the bedroom door, and pretended none of it had happened. Since they were both filled with such regret, I'd leave quietly and give them what they wanted.

The pills I keep by my bedside have been swapped with vitamins. I almost die after getting a heart attack. After the stent surgery, I ask my husband, Evan Whitmore, to find out who did it. I just want the truth. However, he doesn't even look up and just brushes me off. "It was just a mistake. Cecilia probably grabbed the wrong bottle. She bought those vitamins for me. "Don't push this. She has asthma. She can't handle stress." I stare at him in shock, my chest tightening. I can't tell if the pain is from my healing heart or from the words he just threw at me. Cecilia Monroe is his secretary, and he always takes her side. That moment is when I realize that our five years of marriage mean nothing to him at all.

My sister is diagnosed with leukemia after a medical checkup at the hospital where I work. My bone marrow is a match for her. Out of curiosity, I tell my family I'm the one who's sick. They vehemently oppose to her donating her bone marrow to me. "A bone marrow donation is risky! We can't let your sister put herself in danger." "Don't drag your sister into this just because you're sick. Everyone's life and death is fated—you have to accept your destiny." My sister also refuses to help me, brushing me off with the excuse that she's preparing to conceive. My relationship with my family is strained, so their behavior thoroughly destroys it. When I realize this, I leave the diagnosis report behind and walk out on them.

I had poured my heart into planning the perfect wedding—for my female client. Then I turned a corner and saw her kissing my boyfriend at the stairwell. He chuckled softly. "No wonder you're my wife. You're stunning." She let out a soft laugh. "Your little secret girlfriend still does not know you're marrying me. She actually wished me happiness—can you believe it? So… when are you planning to tell her?" He tilted her chin and said, "Didn't we agree? Once we're married, we each live our own lives. Teresa is the love of my life. I hope you'll keep your mouth shut." She gave a snort of laughter and yanked playfully on his tie. "Relax, babe. As long as you keep treating me right, I won't stir up trouble." I felt like I had plunged into an ice bath. Face pale, hands trembling, I picked up my phone and texted my mentor: [I'm ready to take the transfer to Luminous City.] The reply came not long after: [Three days from now. We'll go together.]

The night of our mating ceremony, my destined Alpha, Alex, basically tossed a three-year temporary mate bond agreement at me. He said he only had eyes for one wolf girl, Lily, an Omega. He told me he’d wait until the day he was in charge of the pack, then he’d personally cut our mate bond. Lily would be his one and only. That was until Lily had a huge fight with him and just up and vanished. Alex, after too many nights drowning his sorrows, accidentally marked me. It seemed like he was finally starting to get that I was his real mate. He even started willingly holding me as we fell asleep. Just when I thought Alex had totally accepted me, Lily came back. To save Lily’s mom, Alex didn’t think twice about giving up his own precious life force. To make Lily happy, he publicly shamed me at the Moon Festival, even snatching the only moonstone bracelet my grandma had left me. Lily smashed the bracelet, and my heart broke right along with it. On our third bonding anniversary, Alex booked my favorite restaurant, wanting to say sorry. But what he didn't know was that I’d already broken our mate bond. I wasn't going back.