It Was Him

My husband, Liam, got his terminally ill ex-girlfriend, Chloe, pregnant. He said it was to grant her dying wish of becoming a mother. On the day she gave birth, Liam's sister, Isabella, hired a security firm to guard the hospital, claiming it was to prevent me from causing a scene. Isabella stood by Chloe's bedside. "Don't worry, I have people posted at the entrance. If Ava dares to show up and make trouble, we'll have her thrown out immediately." Liam, seeing I hadn't come, breathed a sigh of relief. "Chloe, just focus on delivering our baby safely. Don't worry about anything else." He truly believed that since he was only fulfilling his dying ex's last wish, I would never be so unreasonable as to make a fuss. Looking at the tiny, rosy infant in his arms, he sent me a text: "Darling, I did this for you. I had her carry a child for us, so you could finally be a mother." He thought that as long as I accepted it all, this child was my ultimate reward. But what he didn't know was that I had just surrendered my residency. In one week, I would be in Kenya, working as a volunteer on a project of biomedical research. It was meant to be a final goodbye—a world away from Liam, forever. But he was searching for me like a madman, pleading for me to return.

She was the good girl, the kind who went to church, held onto hope, and believed love was patient, kind, and safe. He was the golden boy, a charming athlete with a dangerous edge and a past full of secrets. When their worlds collided, it wasn’t gentle. It was wild. All-consuming. Addictive. From the very beginning, he swept her off her feet , with compliments, promises, and intense affection. She fell hard. He changed her, slowly pulling her away from her values, her friends, and herself. But behind the sweet messages and stolen kisses was something darker: cheating, manipulation, and obsession. When she made one mistake, one moment of weakness, he unraveled. Possessive. Cold. Punishing. Their love turned into a battleground of blame, silence, and control. She finally found the strength to walk away. Two months of no contact. Healing. Distance. She went overseas to find space from the chaos. But just as she began to breathe again, he messaged her. They reunited. Briefly. Just long enough for her to realize the truth: he hadn’t changed. But she had. This is the story of a girl who lost herself in someone else’s world, and slowly, powerfully, found her way back. It’s about love bombing, heartbreak, emotional survival, and becoming your own safe place. She meets other men, learns new lessons, and begins to understand that what she really wants isn’t chaos disguised as passion… It’s peace. Wholeness. Companionship built on truth. He was never her forever. But he was the lesson she needed to meet the love she deserved.

My first day back home and my husband's secretary was already flexing her muscles, trying to grab my antique right out of my hands. Before I could get a word out, she smacked me across the face. Twice. She sneered at me with a look that could freeze fire. "This piece caught my eye, and I'm being nice to you. Better apologize and thank me, pronto!" I moved to confront her, but before I knew it, her bodyguard had me pinned to the ground. She looked down at me like I was nothing. "Trying to challenge me? I'm Mrs. Collins of the Collins family here in Riverton City. You're nothing! One word from my husband and you're out of here!" Passersby started chiming in: "Aren't you going to bow down and beg? She's the apple of Mr. Collins' eye." "Play your cards right, and maybe you'll still be scrubbing toilets in Riverton City." I was ready to set things straight when her title hit me like a ton of bricks. The Collins family of Riverton City? When did Eric get another wife? I dialed Eric's number and laughed calmly. "Eric, since when did you secretly marry someone behind my back?"

On the day I was supposed to try on wedding dresses with Charles Jaspier, the mafia leader I had loved for seven years, I walked into the boutique carrying a pregnancy test report—my heart full of hope. Instead, I overheard a conversation that shattered everything. "Registering the marriage with Ellis Olsen was a temporary measure," he said calmly to his closest confidant. "My brother died in a shootout. She's carrying the Jaspier family's only heir. Without a legal status, neither she nor the child would survive in this family." "Everyone would bully them." A cigar rested between his fingers. His voice was cold, edged with resignation. "Zoey Qandor can't have a title—but I can give her everything else. My love. My money. This must never reach her ears." I clenched the pregnancy report, my heart turning to ash. With my best friend's help, I created a new identity—one that ensured Charles would never find me again—and disappeared from his world. If he could not give me and my child a complete family, then this love—built on responsibility and lies—was better cut cleanly, once and for all.

On the third day of the Cold War with my boyfriend, I found a document called "Love of My Life" on his computer. Every word is considered, true feelings, and the heroine is his first love.

On the day my marriage ended, the entire Vale family was celebrating my husband’s mistress for carrying the “heir” I had failed to give them. For five years, they called me barren. For five years, I protected Damian Vale’s pride while his mother humiliated me piece by piece. For five years, I played the perfect Luna while they prepared to replace me. So I smiled, opened the family group chat, and sent the one document that shattered everything. Damian Vale. Male. Congenital azoospermia. Permanent infertility. The room went silent. Then I looked at the people who had fed on my humiliation and said, “I was never the one who failed this family.”

"Where's Donna? Is she asleep?" "My Don... Donna Seraphina has been gone for three days. She told me to give you this." Seraphina Reed. The day I found out I was pregnant, my Mafia husband, Lorenzo, declared in front of the city's elite that our marriage was nothing but my "calculated scheme." I waited anxiously and helplessly for his explanation, but only received a taunting message from his secretary, Victoria. "Your husband isn't coming home tonight. Do you know why?" "Because he's with me, handling some… private business." At that moment, loving him so deeply I would have given him everything, I felt like the world's biggest joke. It turned out everyone thought I married him for money. They bet I would break, they bet I would cry, I would kneel and beg for a scrap of his love. But I didn't. I simply went back to the room, took off my wedding ring, and sealed it in an envelope along with my pregnancy report. Then, I left the cage that had trapped me for ten years. Later, he went crazy looking for me. He turned over every port, locked down every airport, and mobilized the entire family's power. He offered up everything he had, just to beg for my love.

On our wedding night, my wife led my younger brother onto our marital bed. He was wearing nothing but his underwear. She expected him to consummate our marriage in my place. "Sweetheart, I feel awful about your legs and what the doctors said about your infertility," she said softly. "Elliot will just have to help us for one night." My face hardened as I stepped forward. I was ready to throw Elliot Charlton out of the bedroom. However, my parents immediately sided against me. "You're the one who can't fulfill your role as a husband," they said sharply. "Elliot is willing to sacrifice himself so that you can have a child. What's wrong with that?" Even my brother laughed at me. He said I was not a real man and told me to accept things while I still could. According to him, I should be thankful to gain a son without doing anything. They even suggested that I stay and watch, claiming it would prove the two were only trying to conceive a child and nothing else. I clenched my teeth until my jaw ached, then turned and called my wife's greatest rival. "You win," I said quietly. "The Wallace family's investment will be transferred to your account tomorrow." After ending the call, I raised my eyes and looked at Janet Wallace. "You share his bed tonight," I said. "Tomorrow, we get divorced."

My husband's first love gets engaged. To make her regret it, he abandons me, his newlywed wife, and joins a research project down at the southern tip of the earth. I've made 999 attempts across several years to visit him, with each one ending in failure. After five years, I stopped going. During a lively birthday party, he suddenly shows up. When he sees my slightly bulging belly, he howls in anger. "I spent five years at the research base, and not once did you care about how I was doing! Who's the father of the bastard child you're pregnant with?" "It's none of your business," I calmly reply.

On the day of my wedding gown fitting, a stranger burst into the VIP suite and stabbed me with a knife. “You think you deserve a dress this expensive after stealing someone else’s man?” She tore at the delicate fabric of my skirt. Then, with a twisted smile, she hurled a bottle of acid at me. The blade was buried in my lower abdomen. The pain drove me to my knees. She grabbed my hair and yanked my head up. “Gerald’s my husband! What are you? You’re nothing but a mistress who can’t even be seen with him in public!” Blood dripped down my fingers. That was when it finally sank in. The man I had been with for seven years had been keeping another woman by his side. “What’re you staring at? Even if I kill you, with my husband’s influence, no one will dare touch me!” Staring at her smug face, I pulled out my phone with hands slicked in blood and called my brother. “Matt…” My voice was unnervingly calm. “Come pick me up at the bridal shop. And please inform the Hoover family that the engagement is off.”