Male Wednesday Addams

Felix Lindsey, the boyfriend of my childhood friend, Celine Fletcher, will be visiting her home for the very first time. I help Celine out by preparing a nice feast for the occasion. But Felix merely glances at the garlic butter shrimps before flying into a fit of rage. "You cooked food that I'm allergic to on purpose in hopes that I'll embarrass myself in front of Celine and her family! You'll definitely drag my name through the mud on purpose afterward so that you can replace me as her boyfriend, right? "Stop dreaming already! If Celine had feelings for you from the start, I wouldn't be in the picture right now!" With a perplexed look, I quickly explain to Felix that Celine's mom has hurt her leg, so she specifically called me here to help out with the cooking. Also, I already have a fiancee of my own, so I'm not interested in Celine in the slightest. But Felix just chuckles coldly at me. "Stop playing hard to get. I can tell who's a simp at first glance. You often cling to Celine under the guise of being her childhood friend. How utterly disgusting! "Why don't you take a look at yourself in the mirror? That way, you'll see how old and ugly you are! Who on earth will ever have her sights on you? Only a blind woman will ever fall for you!" Celine holds back her laughter the whole time. Just as I'm about to lash out at Felix with clenched fists, she has the audacity to hug him while looking very haughty. "My boyfriend has a really sharp tongue, doesn't he? Finally, there exists someone whose verbal firepower exceeds yours! I'd like to see if you have the guts to bully me ever again!" As I stare at Celine's nonchalant expression, I don't hesitate to deliver a heavy slap across her cheek. "Get the hell away from me! Both you and your boyfriend don't even have the right to speak to me!"

I run into a group of rogues on my way home for my daughter's birthday. I call my wife for help, but she blocks my number. I'm dragged out of the car, stabbed a dozen times, and thrown into the bushes to die. My neck is broken, and my organs are spilling out of my body. The rogues think I'm going to die—they even mention each other's names before me. Then, they drive off in my car while whistling happily. I hold onto my head and organs as I crawl to the roadside, hoping against hope that someone will save me. Before I'm taken to the hospital, I see my wife's social media update—she and her secretary have taken a sweet photo together while celebrating our daughter's birthday. The first thing I do after being discharged is demand a divorce.

It was my twentieth birthday. My father presented me with the photos of many rich heiresses across the nation. He wanted me to pick the one to have a political marriage with. I told him I wanted to leave that in the hands of fate. Why? In my previous life, I picked Rachel Osborne, an heiress from Shampton. And I did that without hesitation. After we got married, I found out her true love, Zacharias Newman, had gotten himself drunk at a bar. The reason? He was heartbroken that we got married. And while he was drunk, a robber mugged him and cut off his hand's tendons. He tried to kill himself three times, and who did my wife blame? Me. She extracted my family's assets and gave them all to her beloved. My family was left as an empty husk. And she let him cut our brake lines. Thanks to him, my family and I died in a horrifying car crash. This was my second life. This time, I chose Seraphina Oliviera, an heiress from Fortunopolis. She was someone who couldn't care less about worldly matters and was a God-fearing woman. Eventually, I showed up at the engagement with Seraphina, but that apparently drove Rachel mad.

Year three of hiding who I was and dating Jenny Knapp, my parents finally said yes to the marriage. I rushed home, ready to tell her—then froze outside the door. Jenny was inside with Nolan Cruz, her childhood friend. "My neighborhood's about to get redeveloped. Big payout. You can finally dump that loser and be with me. If my family hadn't gone broke, you wouldn't have settled for him." No pause. "I'll tell him my family's drowning in debt so we can break up. Then I'll register the marriage with you right away." The words on my tongue died. I pushed the door open. She turned to me, face tight. "My family owes $500,000. I don't want to drag you down. Let's break up." "Sure." I pulled out my phone and texted my dad. [Dad, don't transfer those three buildings to Jenny. Cancel the South Borevia redevelopment project.] If she thought we were worlds apart, I'd show her exactly where I stood.

Caked in mud, her eyes bloodshot, my mother grabbed me by the shoulders. "Elliot, the company's collapsed. I… I killed a competitor. It was an accident. There's no way out now. You're the only one who can come with me." I believed her. I swallowed my fear and followed her into the mountains, deeper and deeper until there was nothing left of the world I knew. To keep her alive, I searched for food, forcing down insects, drinking whatever murky water I could find. When a pack of wolves began circling our shelter, my first instinct was to step in front of her. "Mom, I'll lead them away. You go." I glanced back at her one last time…and made my choice. I would give up my life for hers. However, when I leapt from the cliff and my body shattered against the rocks below… I still saw her. She was inside a descending helicopter, calm and composed, lifting a glass of champagne. Celebrating. That was when it finally clicked. The desperate escape that had driven me to sacrifice myself… was nothing more than a carefully staged show. She had been acting the entire time. I…was the only one who had actually died.

"Sir, the system doesn't have any data on your marriage records with Ms. Lydia Payne." I can feel my knees starting to go weak beneath me as I clutch the gastroscopy report. Five years ago, Lydia was recruited by a top-tier law firm all the way in Starbrough. I made the ultimate decision to travel thousands of miles across the sea with her to start a new life there. She had told me, "Once I've garnered enough wealth and a solid reputation, I'll help you apply for a PR card right away." But it has been five years, and yet my Permanent Resident Card is still in the process of being approved. On the other hand, Lydia's assistant, Philip Wilder, who has traveled to Starbrough with us, has already received his own PR card thanks to Lydia vouching for him. When I received news back then, I wanted to break up with Lydia and fly back to Luxoria. Lydia, who had always prided herself on being cool and calm at all times, panicked for the very first time. She gripped my hand as she said, "It's difficult for Philip to hold down a career in another country, so I view it as my responsibility to help him out. "You're my husband, Nathaniel. You'll have your own PR card sooner or later. My job is a sensitive one, you see, so I need to avoid showing favoritism to you. Please be more understanding toward me." Well, I've been understanding toward Lydia for five whole years. My phone suddenly rings. When I answer the call, I can practically hear the smile dripping off Lydia's tone. "Phillip has successfully passed his citizenship exam! We're celebrating the occasion tonight. Hurry up and come home so that you can get dinner started." I feel my heart going stone-cold as I stare at the marriage certificate in my hand. Well, it's more like a piece of useless paper now. It turns out that I'm not Lydia's legal husband at all. I don't have an identity here, which means I can't receive any benefits. Heck, I can't even get started on the medical insurance that's needed for my follow-up treatments. After ending the call, I book an appointment for a keyhole surgery. Then, I book a ticket on the quickest flight back to Luxoria. This time, I won't go back to Lydia ever again.

After regaining my hearing, I happily march over to the room of my arch-rival, eager to flaunt in front of him—only to hear him moaning my name as he does what all guys do for pleasure.

The night before our wedding, word spread like wildfire through high society that my fiancee had thrown herself a bachelorette party with ten virgins. When I storm into the villa, I find her nestled in the arms of my chauffeur's son, her skin blotched with fresh red marks. "It's just a wild night before the wedding. You get that, don't you?" Melissa Young says. She looks up at me with indifference, not bothering to explain herself. I catch the smug challenge in the eyes of the man holding her. My eyes burn red as I hurl the wedding invitations to the floor. "The scandal is everywhere! Have you even thought about what tomorrow's wedding will look like?" I yell. "This isn't just about you and me. It's about the future of both our families' businesses! Call a press conference and explain yourself." She frowns, irritation flickering in her eyes, but gives a grudging nod. Yet the next day, the internet explodes with a new bombshell—the Zucker heir is impotent, leaving his fiancee unsatisfied. When I demand answers, Melissa puts her foot down, her voice dripping with venom as she says, "All I see now is Nicky." She snaps, "No matter how many times you threaten to pull your investments, my mind's made up!" In that moment, the last ember of love I feel for her goes out. I call my dad, my resolve steeled. "Cut off all funding to Young Group, and buy out every one of her partnerships at triple the price!"

To scrape together enough money for tickets home on New Year’s Eve, I took on a part-time job and accidentally entered a livestream where money was being thrown around. The boy on screen had fair skin and wore a high-end knit sweater, with a luxuriously decorated villa behind him. “It’s too boring being kept here. My sugar mommy gives me more money than I can spend. Let’s do some giveaways.” Excited, I grabbed several large cash drops in a row. The money for my girlfriend’s and my tickets was almost enough. Then the boy suddenly leaned close to the camera. “She keeps saying the tear mole under my eye looks like her boyfriend’s. What bad luck, sharing the same feature as some poor loser.” My fingers trembled. I had a tear mole in the exact same spot. A comment floated by: [How could a sugar mommy’s boyfriend be poor?] The boy sneered, running a hand through his hair. “She’s just playing around. Told him she’s a million in debt, and he’s dumb enough to work and help her pay it off.” My heart went cold. My girlfriend was also supposedly a million in debt. “The funniest part is, she just spent three days with me. When she left, I asked if she still had the energy to go be with him. “She said as long as she tells him she’s going to wash dishes at a barbecue place, that idiot will feel bad and go deliver food to make some extra money overnight.” Another big cash drop came in. I had enough now. My phone rang. Wren’s voice sounded tired as she said, “Aran, the ticket money isn’t enough… I made a little over two hundred dollars washing dishes. I’ll head home now.”

The first thing I did after being reborn was add penicillin, a drug the patient was severely allergic to, into his pre-surgery medication administration record. The hospital leadership exploded. “Have you lost your mind?” “Are you trying to kill the patient?” I smiled as I accepted the suspension notice they handed me. In my previous life, I had been the lead cardiac surgeon for this operation. Back then, I refused a request from my wife, Shannon Wright, whose childhood friend, Jonah Hill, wanted to use my patient as ‘practice’ during the surgery. Right there in, Shannon threw a tantrum and demanded a divorce. In the chaos, she ripped out the patient’s blood transfusion line and even knocked over the blood bags, causing the wealthy patient to die on the table. However, they pinned the entire medical malpractice scandal on me. With the security footage wiped clean, I was sentenced to death in the end. My parents sold everything they owned and gathered eight million dollars. They gave the money to Shannon, begging her to hire a lawyer and help overturn my case. Instead, she told them that she and Jonah had been having an affair. From the very beginning, I had only been their scapegoat. The shock shattered my parents. While driving home in a daze, they lost control of the car and plunged off an overpass bridge. Both of them died on the spot. Now, when I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very day of that wealthy patient’s surgery.