Middle School Sweethearts

My childhood sweetheart, Nate Green, left me again and again, always for my stepsister, Jules Howard. Still, I forgave him and waited for him. I was stupid enough to believe he would come back one day, triumphant and sworn to marry me. Then, one day, he made Jules pregnant and promised her that their child would inherit the Silvermoon Pack. In that instant, every scrap of my hope, every night spent waiting, and every fantasy I’d let myself have was crushed beneath his feet. So, I turned away and took the hand of his younger uncle, Elliot Green. Because of my choice, Elliot became the Alpha of the Silvermoon Pack. Nate would never know the truth: I was the Luna the Bryce clan had always claimed as fate. Whoever beside me would be the one ordained to become the next Alpha. Later, under a full moon, Elliot and I stood on the ceremonial dais and accepted the blessing of the Moon Goddess. In that moment, Nate’s face turned white as paper. Finally, he understood that what he had thrown away wasn’t just a woman who loved him; it was the future of an entire pack. He used to treat me like dust. Now, he knelt among the ruins, frantic and broken, while I smiled down from my high place, cold and unmoved, never looking back.

After twenty years of knowing and loving my destined mate, Alpha Martin, we were finally about to get married. On the eve of the wedding, He skillfully picked out the lipstick shade I wanted from my makeup bag. That's when I knew: Alpha Martin had someone else. That girl was wearing the custom evening gown I'd prepared for the wedding banquet, clinking glasses with Alpha Martin in a mate's toast. Our friends surrounded her, respectfully calling her "Luna." I didn't cause a scene. Instead, I called the hospital. "Dr. Fabian, please dispose of the eggs I had frozen." Then I sent a message to that girl. "Yvonne Jimenez, would you like to marry Martin Daniels in my place?"

On the day of my coming-of-age ceremony, all three of my fiancés showed up with the worst reports from their family-run businesses. My father had declared that I would marry the one who could bring the greatest benefit to our family. However, all three of them had already fallen for a penniless scholarship girl named Amelia Jones, and none of them wanted me. In my previous life, I kept them close, mentored them, and poured my resources into helping them rise. By the time they had each become powerful men in my family, they repaid me by framing my father, getting him arrested, and making him age more than 10 years overnight. He was dragged to prison. Me? They hired a crew of street thugs to brutalize me, leaving me to die while my private photos spread across the internet. As life slipped away, I heard their sneering voices: "Did you really think we ever liked you? Everything we did was for Amelia." "If you hadn't chained us to your side, we'd have married her long ago, we'd have a house full of kids by now!" "You and your father ruined her future. She couldn't afford college because of you. She had no choice but to jump!" Then I opened my eyes: reborn on the very day of my coming-of-age ceremony. I pulled my father aside, looked him in the eye, and said, "I'm an adult now. Throw them out. Strip them of every business and every asset we gave them." "I'm not choosing any of them. I chose Bruce Sullivan, the Don of the Sullivan family."

In my tenth year of marriage, my old childhood friend, Joshua Sears, posts a photo on social media. Both Joshua and my wife, Sabrina Lawson, are hugging his son, Andy Sears, and my daughter, Tiana Jenkins, in it. The four of them look very close to each other. The caption accompanying the post says, "Blessed to have the perfect son and daughter." I leave a comment below the post, saying, "Looking good together." A few seconds later, the post is deleted. The next morning, Sabrina rushes home and yells at me. "Ashton Jenkins! Joshua was finally feeling better for once. Why did you have to trigger him again?" Tiana shoves me hard and snaps in an accusatory tone, "It's all your fault that Andy's crying now!" I take out a copy of the divorce agreement and slam it down before them. "Yes, it's all my fault. That's why I'm stepping out of the picture now. Then, the four of you can form the wholesome family you've always wanted."

To test his loyalty, my stepsister, Wendy Lidell, drugged my childhood friend. Then, she shoved me into his room. Unable to watch Connor Gordon suffer, I willingly helped him through the night. In a fit of pique, Wendy ran off and married a cruel mafia don. I got pregnant, and Connor was forced to marry me. At that point, he started to despise me. During the ten long years of marriage, he treated me and our son coldly. But during a flood overseas, he sacrificed his life to get me and our son back on solid land. I failed to keep my grip on him. As he sank into the depths, he looked at me and said, “If we could redo everything, make sure you don’t help me that night.” Those words stung me greatly, and I fainted right away. When I next opened my eyes, I found that I had gone back in time. I had traveled back to the night when Wendy had drugged Connor and locked me in his room.

Today is the sixth time my girlfriend, Shirley Lake, is supposed to meet my parents. My parents and I wait at the restaurant for four whole hours. I call her over and over again, but she never picks up. Just as I'm about to try one last time, I see Shirley's childhood sweetheart, Joshua Solomon, post a picture on his Instagram, with the location tagged at a suburban hotel. The picture shows a woman's pale back, one shoulder bare, with a striking red spider lily tattoo visible on her skin. Underneath the picture was the caption, "We'll make it from 18 to 80." A mutual friend comments, "First-love couples are the sweetest!" I silently hit the like button, then comment, "Make sure to get buried together when you die. And don't come back to haunt anyone else."

Jennifer Porter, the icy and untouchable CEO, never imagined that buying a simple jade pendant for her childhood friend would change everything. Because of that pendant, I divorced her and left with our daughter. After all, the jade pendant was my father's keepsake, and her childhood friend smashed it to pieces right in front of me. We met again three years later, at an international jewelry design competition. My ex-wife grabbed my wrist, fury burning in her eyes. "You've been gone for three years. Isn't your tantrum long enough? I'll buy you a hundred jade pendants, just come home with me." The next second, a small hand tugged at her clothes. "Excuse me, could you step aside? My mom needs to talk to my dad."

Before the SATs, everyone had filled in their dream colleges they'd like to apply to. Now that the results were out, my boyfriend, Sheldon Miller, and many of my classmates had successfully gotten into Astraeus University, which happens to be their dream university. In order to celebrate the success, Sheldon's childhood friend, Winnie Frost, decided to invite Sheldon and the classmates over to the tattoo parlor her family ran for celebratory tattoos. I grabbed Sheldon's hand and reminded him that students in aviation majors weren't allowed to have tattoos of their own, only to get slapped by him instead. The classmates around me even started mocking me relentlessly. "Just how shameless are you, Cassandra? Sheldon and Winnie are the actual childhood friends here! You don't want him to get a tattoo at her family's parlor out of jealousy, right?" I was so pissed that I could feel a headache coming. For the sake of Sheldon's future, I forcibly dragged him away. But what I didn't expect was that Winnie would secretly carry two barrels of gas to my residence. Just like that, she set my residence ablaze. That fire ended up killing my parents and me. Sheldon and our classmates even forged Winnie's alibi just so they could wash her off the police's suspicion. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Sheldon is about to walk into Winnie's tattoo parlor. Sheldon shakes my hand off ruthlessly and begins berating me angrily. "Aren't you just being jealous because Winnie and I are close to each other? I'll have you know that not only do I want to get a tattoo with Winnie, but I also want to have her name tattooed on my body!" This time, I just flash a wide smile at him. "Go on, then. You'd better have her name tattooed on an obvious spot."

While I'm waiting for my wife, Anna Fulton, I happen to come across a popular post on social media that's posted by someone who lives in the same city as I do. "What should I do if my husband clings to me too much?" Among the comments that make fun of the original poster for flaunting her happy marriage on the Internet, the lengthy comment left by a masculine ID attracts my attention. "You gotta pretend to be ditzy and dumb. My childhood friend was forced to marry the man she doesn't love, so I suggested to her that she should pretend to be a directionally-challenged idiot. She kept up that facade for five years so far. "After that, her mother-in-law kept urging her to give birth to a baby. So, she secretly coated the stairs with grease, leading to her husband falling down the stairs. When she drove him to the hospital, she pretended to lose her way and drove a few laps around the suburban area. In the end, her husband could never get his manhood up ever again because the treatment got delayed. "Her mother-in-law thought it was an accident. She was afraid that my childhood friend might abandon her husband, so she bought her a house and a car. You have no idea how much that mother-in-law sucked up to her! "Today is her husband's professor selection day. She even suggested to him that she'd drive him to the campus. But the truth is, she plans on pretending to lose her way in the traffic just to drag the time out so that I can replace him in the selection. "Once her husband fails the selection, she'll use the opportunity to convince him to resign from his job. He's already a loser, to begin with. Once he loses his job, she'll have a valid reason to divorce him once and for all." The familiar experience makes my heart skip a beat. Before I can ruminate about the details, I hear Anna's guilt-ridden voice drifting into my ear. "I think I'm lost, Claude. Surely you can make it to the selection on time, right?"

My name is Carmela Romano. My wedding to Enzo Moretti, the mafia boss, comes with a price tag of hundreds of millions. The extravagant affair leaves the world utterly astonished. Enzo declares his love with a sky full of fireworks and fills the venue with a million roses. The ten-carat ring on my finger gleams brilliantly, outshining everything around me. Everyone envies our love story. But one day, everything falls apart. After a brutal attack by a rival gang, I suffer a miscarriage. To my disbelief, Enzo is absent, preoccupied with a parent-teacher meeting for Luca Vitale—the son of his childhood sweetheart. After 66 unanswered calls, Enzo finally texts me. "I'm at Luca's parent-teacher meeting. Stop calling me!" "Luca grew up without a father. I'm only helping him this once. There's no reason to make a scene!" Blood seeps out beneath me, and the agony in my stomach is unbearable. I can only sink deeper into despair. The child I've waited for all these years is gone. The snow falls heavier with every passing moment. I close my eyes, yearning to escape this world with my baby. But miraculously, a patrolling officer discovers me, barely clinging to life. When I wake in the hospital, one thought burns in my mind. "I want a divorce. Enzo, I'm done with you."