Photo Negative Mickey

For five years, I thought our marriage was solid. Then, my husband, Lionel Franco’s first love, Sandra Howard, posted a photo of a property deed on her social media. The caption read: [Thank you, Lionel, for transferring the house to me.] I stared in disbelief and left a single comment: [WTF?] Lionel called within minutes. “She’s a struggling single mother. Transferring the house to her makes it easier for her son to get into school. It doesn’t affect where we live,” he snapped. “How can you be so lacking in compassion?” In the background, I heard her muffled sobs. Half an hour later, she tagged me in another post.  This time, she flaunted her Mercedes worth over a million dollars, with the caption: [Paid in full. As the saying goes, ‘Where a man spends his money, that's where his heart is’.] I knew he bought it to soothe her temper. But this time, I had enough. I decided to divorce him.

On the night of my fifth wedding anniversary with Sebastian Gray, he lit up the entire city with fireworks for me. All our friends kept saying what a wonderful man he was—so loving, so romantic. The kind of husband every woman dreams of. At the grand finale, the fireworks burst into words that lit up the night sky: Happy Birthday, Jen. Jennifer Kingsley was Sebastian's first love, his ideal woman, the one who had always lingered in his heart. Sebastian looked at me, his expression almost sheepish. "Ah, it's Jen's birthday too. They must have mixed up the fireworks." That night, Jennifer posted on her social media: "Men are boys till the day they die, always fumbling their way through romance." She added a picture of the fireworks, along with a photo of her and Sebastian standing close under the dazzling display. I liked her post and left a comment: "From school to altar—what a touching love story. When's the wedding?"

Our wedding anniversary also happens to be our son's birthday. A month in advance, I carefully plan a family trip for the three of us—me, my husband, and our son. But right before we're supposed to leave, both of them suddenly disappear on me. I'm left standing alone in the pouring rain, dialing their numbers. On the other end, my son's young voice comes through, sounding cold and impatient. "Dad's having dinner with Ms. Moore. We don't want to go anymore." The call ends, and I'm blocked. Later that night, they intentionally lock me out of the house. I'm left standing in the freezing cold all night long. Soaked from the rain, I come down with a high fever and develop pneumonia. Meanwhile, my husband and son are off vacationing with Sophia Moore, smiling for a happy family photo with just the three of them. And in that moment, I know this marriage has truly come to an end.

Three years into marriage, he treated her badly, while treating Charlotte like a treasure. He neglected her, their marriage feeling like a prison. Ella endured it all because she deeply loved George! Until she received a photo from Charlotte, when everything became clear to her. With a heavy heart, Ella coolly signed the papers... She then took off the apron of a virtuous housewife, and put on the crown of a queen, ruling the world. Returning once more to her rightful place as a billionaire heiress and a skilled doctor, she was no longer George's wife, but a powerful woman in her own right. Her ex-husband insisted, "Mrs. Wickham, I haven't signed yet! You can't be with anyone else!" Ella smiled faintly, "Mr. Wickham, we have no relationship anymore!" His eyes slightly red, the man trembled as he spoke the vows from their wedding day, "I will never divorce you!" The Divorced Female Billionaire Heiress is created by Eva TaleSmith, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

Rey Jhon Zialcita, a gay young man, once worked as the babysitter of Gabriella Chan—a spoiled girl who don't know how to cut onions because she always got everything she wanted. The only person who knew his secret was Gabriella because she once caught him kissing a photo of a man and even asked him straight out if he was a gay. Everything went fine with his job as her babysitter not until Gabriella’s debut party. That night, Rey Jhon gave in to temptation. He thought things were turning out the way he had always imagined. But reality was far from perfect. After that, he went away, searching for answers to the questions that troubled him. When he finally found them and came back to Gabriella but it only led to more pain. He should have known there was a problem waiting to be uncovered. But when he finally discovered the truth, it was far bigger and more heartbreaking than he ever expected. Now the question is—will he be able to win in the end?

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."

On the same day I was admitted into the hospital for my pregnancy, my husband, Charles Page, received 108 missed calls on his phone. It was from Sue, his mentee, a girl who had cancer. I asked if he was going to pick up, and he replied impatiently, "All she does is call me all day! Doesn't she have any other family? She's so annoying." Later, that very girl posted a photo of herself on the hospital rooftop, wearing a white dress. The caption said: [If I jump down from here, will I become a butterfly in my next life? Maybe then, everyone won't hate me.] Charles only glanced at the post before chuckling mockingly. "What does she mean, turn into a butterfly? Is she delusional?" But after that, he grew visibly restless, before rushing out and not returning all night. That night, I hemorrhaged and was taken into emergency care. When the nurse asked if I wanted to keep the baby, I looked at the empty space beside me and answered calmly. "No, I don't."

I was six months pregnant when my husband, Michael Greene, shoved me off the edge of a yacht during a birthday party. Why? Because Lily Clement, his childhood sweetheart, had fallen into the water, and apparently, the yacht was too small for all three of us. After being pulled from the ocean, suffering from hypothermia and shock, I was taken to the hospital. Doctors determined that emergency surgery was necessary and required a family member's consent. However, no matter how many times they called, Michael never picked up. At the same time, lying in a hospital bed, I scrolled through Lily’s Instagram and saw the post she shared just hours earlier. It was a photo of the two of them, soaked but clinging to each other like lovers out of a movie. "Sometimes love comes from the most unexpected places. Thank you for always being there for me—quietly, selflessly, unshakably." That was all I needed. The day I was discharged, I left Michael a signed divorce agreement. If he wanted to be her knight in shining armor, I’d let him.

Le soir de Noël, j'avais préparé un somptueux dîner, mais minuit a sonné sans que mon mari, Sylvain Naudé, ne rentre à la maison. Ma fille m'a tendu son téléphone : « Maman, regarde… Papa est chez cette femme ! » Sur les réseaux sociaux, Sylvain avait publié une photo où il échangeait un sourire complice avec Céline, son amie d'enfance. Entre eux se tenait un enfant d'une dizaine d'années, et devant eux trônait un gâteau en forme de cygne blanc. La légende disait : « En ce jour si spécial, avec vous, les plus précieux. » Mon cœur a sombré. Six ans d'amour n'avaient pas suffi à rivaliser avec des liens tissés depuis l'enfance. D'accord, j'acceptais ma défaite.

On my fifth birthday with Zachary Murdock, I sit once again in front of a full table of cold food, just like every year before. Zachary had promised, as always, to spend the day with me. And, as always, he breaks that promise. This year, it's because his childhood sweetheart wanted to shoot a set of "artistic photos". She invited him and a few of his close buddies to be part of it. Without hesitation, he ditches me again and runs straight into her arms. At 11:00 pm, his childhood sweetheart posts a photo to her social media and sets it so that only I can see it. In the picture, four men are in nothing but black briefs and Windsor-knotted ties. They kneel around her while she is draped in sheer fabric like a goddess. The caption reads, "Some people beg for crumbs, but I own the entire bakery." I take a screenshot. Then, I send it to the girlfriends of all three of Zachary’s best buddies. If they all look down on me this much, let's hope they don't end up on their knees begging me someday.