Melodramatic

In the sixth year of my marriage with Zach Elroy, his workplace finally allocated us a small, two-room flat. I was overjoyed. I told our daughter she would finally have a bed of her own. But Zach said coldly, "This room is for Jennifer and her daughter. You and Kathy can keep sleeping on the floor." In my past life, we fought bitterly over it. He eventually gave in. But while I was away on a work trip, he went back on his word. He brought Jennifer Cross into our home and made our daughter, Kathy, sleep on the floor. That night, when Kathy came down with a high fever and cried out that she felt sick, he was reading Jennifer and her daughter a bedtime story. Our daughter passed away that night. Now, in this life, I calmly laid out the bedding on the floor and said, "Whatever."

I double over in pain after assisting Adrian Randall with a late-night operation. He immediately carries me to a ward to check on me. However, before he can do that, he receives a call from a patient and hurries off. That night, I miscarry. When I come out of the operating theater, I see his childhood friend's social media update. She's shared a photo of her baby bump. "He hurried to come to my side just because I was lost. You have to treat Adrian well in the future, my darling!" I rub my belly, which throbs with a dull ache. I don't cry and demand an explanation from Adrian as I would have in the past. Instead, I like the post and apply for a position on the Borderless Medical Assistance Program. The day I leave, the high and mighty Dr. Randall looks at me with red-rimmed eyes. He asks, "How can you bear to leave me behind?"

A month before the wedding, my fiancé had an unexpected encounter at an auto repair shop with his ex-girlfriend, the one he had broken up with regretfully. The suppressed emotions quickly spiraled out of control. He took her back to his place to celebrate, from the couch to the balcony, and finally to the bedroom. He told all his friends that this was the best gift life had given him before the wedding. "I may not be able to forget Winona, but Julia's family background is more suitable for me. She'll never know what happened between Winona and me. We're going to get married. She loves me, and I'm the best choice for her." His voice was full of confidence, as though nothing could change his mind. But he was never my top candidate. After a serious illness, I followed my family's wishes and switched to a new groom.

As my murderer's claws tear into my abdomen inch by inch, my father and brother are seated in our family's banquet hall. They're celebrating Carly's 18th birthday and coming-of-age. "You'll always be my little girl." "Happy birthday, Carly." They light 18 pink candles for her. On top of the exquisite red velvet cake is a wolf figurine that they carved for her, and there are well wishes and laughter all around. Meanwhile, I'm curled up in a sewer filled with liquid silver as I bleed to death. My phone has been crushed, and I can't get out. I can only cry for help. A few days later, my father and brother show up together at the autopsy room. My brother stands by the operating table with a scalpel. He slices open the body and sews it back up like it's nothing. My father just covers his nose as he shoots a disgusted glance at my body. He urges my brother to hurry up with the autopsy report. "The victim is a young female wolf presumed to be of pure lineage. Before her death, she was subjected to prolonged captivity and torture. Her throat is nearly severed, her cervical spine is dislocated, and her chest cavity has collapsed. She was also injected with liquid silver before death." Hearing the report, my father looks so calm that it's just like a case study of no consequence. Neither of them can recognize that the body belongs to me—their daughter and sister!

When my body was being dismembered, my fiance was helping my cousin choose her wedding dress. When he received my distress call, he said with disgust, "I hope you never come back! You can die with the bastard in your womb! Don't ever call me again. The mentioning of your name makes me sick!" After that, he found a body part of me in a water tank on the rooftop of a hotel. He thought it was a prank, so he actually ordered white lilies and candles to be delivered to my doorstep. Only when he found my head buried in the grass under his feet on the day of our wedding did he realize that it wasn't a prank.

"Hello, I want a divorce." In the third year of her marriage, Roxanne Levine decided to file for divorce. But she did so without telling her husband. Across the desk, the lawyer, Nathaniel Shepherd, responded in a formulaic tone after hearing her intent. "If you wish to proceed with a divorce, both parties need to sign the divorce agreement. After that, there will be a one-month cooling-off period before the divorce is finalized. Did your husband not come with you today?" Roxanne paused for a few seconds. "I'll make sure he signs it." "Very well. I'll draft a divorce agreement for you."

My daughter has leukemia and desperately needs a bone marrow donor. After a blood test, it turns out my blood type doesn't match hers. However, my husband's blood type does. This confuses me. I gave birth to her, so how could my blood type not be a match for hers? I'm puzzled by this when my long-lost best friend suddenly appears with her son, who's about my daughter's age. She wants him to do a blood test to see whether it matches my daughter's.

My brother-in-law passed away in an accident. Out of pity for his widow, my husband decided to be the breadwinner for both families. After that, my husband and son both gave all their love to my widowed sister-in-law. On her birthday, my husband and son reserved a restaurant in town for her party. I was plucking corn in the field when I started bleeding, a sign that I was miscarrying. I called my husband, begging him to come home and take me to the hospital. However, he scolded me angrily, calling me a liar. “What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t touched you in months! How could you be pregnant?” My son grabbed the phone impatiently as well. “Mom, the teacher said lying is wrong! Aunt Laura’s blowing out the candles now, bye!” We had been married for seven years, yet they had completely forgotten that today was my birthday too. Despairing, I dialed another number. “Mother, I changed my mind. I’m going back to inherit the clinic.”

By the fifth year of my marriage to Noah Lester, everyone insisted that I, Emma Newman, was his eternal muse. But I knew the truth. Behind my back, Noah cycled through a parade of fresh-faced, eager lovers. He even flaunted them at social gatherings, swapping one for another with shameless ease. When friends teased him—"Didn’t you swear Emma was the love of your life? Why the revolving door of mistresses?"—he’d just laugh, arms slung around his latest conquests. "Once you’ve caught your muse the glow fades. Give me someone new and tender any day—at least they keep things exciting." So I began plotting my escape. What Noah never realized was that I had grown tired of him, too. Tired of this life, of these performances. I was done.

I'm already half-blind in my left eye, but Cedric Thompson forces me to donate my right cornea to his childhood sweetheart. Her parents berate me. "She's blind now! It's not like you'll die without one eye's cornea!" Cedric consoles me. "We're only taking the cornea for one eye. It won't affect anything." I'm forcibly placed under anesthesia. I lose all hope in life before my eyes slide shut. I would never have married him if I'd know he would treat me like this. He has no idea I can barely see with my left eye now.