Male Reader

I made a deal with Sonia Quindt—the billionaire CEO. After I'd proposed to her ninety-nine freaking times, she swore she'd finally show up for the hundredth. Spoiler: she didn't. She was out there at some concert with her boy toy. And, of course, someone caught them on livestream. Big kiss. Big viral moment. Meanwhile, my face was plastered all over the internet too—lonely guy number one, waiting for a bride who never existed. Everyone online started making bets. Who was the mystery woman? How long until I came crawling back for the hundred-and-first proposal? Sonia, apparently struck by some last-minute guilt, promised she'd make it right next time. Said she'd actually show up. And she did. Wedding dress. Perfect makeup. Cameras ready. She got a text from me: [Sonia, there won't be a hundred-and-first proposal. We're done.]

On our seventh year anniversary, my girlfriend, Rachel Winters, forces me to drink a glass of drugged champagne before dumping me onto the bed of an 80-year-old widow. "It's Bryon's first time attending a business meeting. He's still pure and oblivious, so he doesn't know how to satisfy an older widow's insatiable desire. "I have no choice but to ask you to seal this business deal on his behalf. Think of this as your way of helping me repay Bryon's family for raising me since young. "Don't worry, Corey. No one will know about this." After that, Rachel turns off the lights and leaves the room while ignoring my pleas for help. But the next day, the video of me and the widow going at it is spread across the Internet. My colleagues look down on me for resorting to such underhanded methods just to get promoted. They can't believe that I'm able to stomach the idea of sleeping with an 80-year-old widow. Thanks to the video, the company's reputation is greatly affected. Rachel holds a press conference immediately to address the issue. I thought she'd defend me, but I didn't expect her to change her tune. "I've already discussed this matter with the Dalton family. Corey Dalton shall take responsibility for what he's done to the widow. As for me, I will get engaged to Bryon Parson." I feel as though lightning has struck me on the spot. I've founded this company with Rachel and has stuck by her side through thick and thin, resulting in us rising as the new-time business moguls. But in the end, she decides to ditch me. "Corey, if you really want to stay by my side, you can remain as my side piece. In exchange, I'll help you shake that old woman off your tail." As I meet Rachel's smug gaze, I shake my head decisively. "I've already thought things through and decided that I'll be marrying the widow."

After failing a bomb disposal mission, my wife, who's also a bomb disposal expert, gives my shield to her true love. I grab her hand and plead with her not to do it, but she shoves me away. "You're so selfish! You have a system that can revive you—why do you even need the shield? Jeremy is already weak, to begin with. He can't handle any impact and needs two shields to keep him safe!" She doesn't know that the system has only given me two chances to be revived. I used the first chance when she begged me to save Jeremy Sawyer. During a mission last year, I used the second chance to save her from the brink of death. It looks like I'm going to die today.

My esports team is engaged in a practice match at midnight. Suddenly, my coach hands a phone over to me. On the other end of the line, my dad cries hysterically. Amid his sobs, he tells me that my mom is currently unconscious in the hospital, and that the doctor has issued him a critical notice. Apparently, my mom's funeral is being prepared in advance, so my dad wants me home immediately. As I stare at the match-up diagram of the final round of the national-level competition as well as the seven-figure prize money, I reply icily, "I'm not going home. I must participate in the final round tomorrow. During the competition, my phone will be turned off. Don't disturb me no matter what."

After being reborn, I tear up my school withdrawal form. I no longer wish to become a househusband just for Eliza Stewart's sake. She messages me when she hears the news, but I blacklist her number right away. She camps outside my house to confront me, so my family and I move to a new place immediately. Eventually, she compromises by asking me to join her in Northcrest for college. That way, I can still take care of her. I go behind her back and apply to be an education major at Southwell University instead. In my previous life, she dedicated herself to everything and everyone else, except for me. This time around, I just want us to go on our separate paths and never meet again. A few years later, I set off for the rural region of Westridge to volunteer as a teacher. Eliza, who is also volunteering there, sees me. Her eyes start turning red. She grabs my hand and refuses to let go. "Don't run off this time, Matthew…"

I, Xavier Locke, had married the same woman, Melanie Slater, seven times. But for the sake of her first love, Leonard Blueman, she divorced me seven times. The first time we got married, she told me, "I'll only love you for the rest of my life." But every time Leonard came back to the country, she sang a different tune. "Can't you be more sensible? How can you bear to stand by and let Lenny be called a homewrecker who snatches a married woman from her husband?" The first time we divorced, I cut my wrists to make her stay. I was taken to the hospital in an ambulance, but she never showed up even once to see me. The third time we divorced, I humbled myself and applied to be her assistant at her company. I did that just so I could see her a little more. By the sixth divorce, I had learned to quietly pack my things and move out of the home we shared. My hysteria, my repeated backing down, and my tolerant compromises brought me nothing—just Melanie repeatedly divorcing and remarrying me. Time and time again, she pulled the same trick. With history repeating itself, I decided enough was enough. After hearing that Leonard was coming back again, this time, I handed her the divorce papers myself. As always, she set a date for our next remarriage. But what she didn't know… was that I was leaving for good this time.

On the day of our tenth wedding anniversary, my wife, Cara Dempsey, jumped from ten thousand feet in the air after hearing that her first love's plane had crashed. It was only then that I finally understood the only man she ever truly loved all these years was Luthen Waltz. When we were both sent back in time to relive our teenage years, she wasted no time making a grand, public confession to Luthen, completely cutting ties with me. I just stood there, watching the two of them kiss like they couldn’t bear to be apart, and in that moment, my heart felt nothing. From that day on, we were over, and we lived our separate lives. Ten years later, we crossed paths again at a five-star hotel in Harbor City. She, who had become a celebrity adored by the world, was wearing a gown, laughing in Luthen’s arms. When she saw me wandering through the hotel, searching for someone, she thought I had come looking for her. “George, stop wasting your time! Even in ten years, I will never choose you!” I didn’t respond. Instead, I looked toward the little girl running toward me, calling me Dad, and gave her the warmest smile. Cara’s expression froze. Tears welled in her eyes as she choked out, “You lied to me, didn’t you? You said you hated kids and that you’d only ever love me.”

On Valentine’s Day, someone stabbed my mother-in-law twenty times until she died. So, I took the murderer to court. My wife was a renowned lawyer, but she decided to defend him. I confronted her in anger, but she casually replied, “Derek’s younger brother is still a college student. Can’t you be a little more forgiving? “I’ll bring Derek and his younger brother along to visit your mother’s grave. Drop the charges. Don’t let this go to trial and embarrass me when you lose the case.” Looking at the mangled corpse full of stabbing wounds, I could not help but let out a bark of laughter. It looked like she was still unaware that the corpse was actually her own mother.

I was in a relationship with Quinn Lucas for five years and thought I had touched her with my sincerity. That night, I got a phone call from her when I was preparing to propose to her. "Kyle, come to the hotel." Then, she sent me the address. When I arrived, she told me to buy contraceptives from the supermarket next door. I thought we were close to our happily ever after, so I was excited. When I knocked on the door of her room again, I saw a man, who took the contraceptives in my hand and thanked me. I froze in place...

When I woke up that morning and happened to glance at the mirror, a scream tore from my throat before I could stop it. Because on the face I had always taken such pride in, there was now a jagged, horrifying scar. As terror gripped me, a cool, detached female voice cut through the air beside me. "What are you shrieking about so early in the morning? Scared by your own ugly face?" I looked up in shock and realized the voice belonged to my girlfriend, Alicia. Only—she wasn't the same girl from yesterday. Gone was the youthful innocence I remembered. In its place, every movement, every glance radiated the allure of a mature woman. The words slipped out before I could hold them back. "Babe… you're gorgeous…" But Alicia's brows knit together, her gaze colder than ice. "Kurt, drop the act!" Act? I was at a loss. Why would she accuse me of pretending? "Don't call me the way you used to five years ago. It's disgusting." Five years ago? But… I'm still twenty-three… am I not?