Quotes About Emotional Scars

When I arrive at a villa to fulfill an order, the beautiful young woman living there looks at me expectantly, her face flushed. "Stop looking around—there aren't any dogs here. I'm the one you need to feed…" She changes into inviting lingerie and pins me to the couch. Her voice is coy, and her lips are soft. She parts them slightly and looks at me lovingly. "Remember to use all your strength to fill me up, okay? If you don't, I'll give you a bad rating…"

On my very first day at work, I received an unexpected "Carpool Request": "I am currently 3 weeks pregnant. Since I don't know how to drive and for the safety of my baby, I require my colleagues to take turns picking me up and dropping me off." "After some research, I found that your car is worth a lot of money, and it’s less than a year old, meeting my standards for a suitable ride. You will be responsible for driving me home today after work." "I don’t work overtime, so please pack up your things before clock-out time and leave the office on schedule." I frowned and immediately replied: "If you have no shame, I’m happy to donate it to someone who truly needs it!"

When I was seven years old, my father began subjecting me to extremely strict parenting. Not only did he withhold any support for my food, clothing, housing, or daily necessities, but he even charged me for drinking water in our own home. As a child, I endured relentless suffering and bullying. When I was critically injured by a vehicle that broke the law, I was severely injured, and my father refused to save me. Only after my death did I learn the truth that he already had a son somewhere out there. Everything he did to me was meant to drive me to my death. After rebirth, I no longer adhered to rules nor endured silently. Exploiting the fact that I was still a minor, I stabbed his secretary, bullied my classmates at school, and even set a fire on campus to force my father to give up on his brutal methods. When I grew up, I took everything he owned and sent him to prison. Only then was my revenge completed.

I worked tirelessly to secure a major project with the design institute, but my husband fabricated lies out of nowhere, claiming I was dragging the company down. He handed the credit for my work to his first love. Instead of getting angry, I laughed and gave my position as the company's Design Director to his precious first love too. "Working on projects all the time is exhausting. Why don't I just make you the company's Design Director instead?" Every single colleague thought I'd lost my mind, but nobody knew the project could only succeed because of my unique design style and my connections. Without me, the project would not just fail. The entire company would collapse.

The day I found out I was a match for my dad—stage four leukemia—I bailed. Mom tore the world apart looking for me, but yeah, she had to watch him go. After that, she drowned herself in research, built a name, even adopted this perfect little angel. We crossed paths again at some fancy leukemia conference she was hosting. I was on the demo table. She took one look and scoffed. "Charlotte Stein, not the time for your crap. Get up and go." The host blinked, stunned. "Dr. Cooper... you know this cadaver?" She actually laughed. "What, she paid you for this stunt?" The host turned ghost-white. "M-Miss Stein passed three days ago..."

The day after the new year, during a family gathering, my aunt sneered at me as I worked overtime, reviewing a proposal. "Why are you pretending to be so busy? It’s not like we don’t know you only make three thousand a month. Real money-makers are people like my daughter, a designer so successful she doesn’t even have time to come home!" I ignored her, but she directed her spoiled son to delete all my files while I was in the bathroom. My hands trembled with rage. "This proposal is due in ten minutes—if I don’t submit it, everything is ruined!" She scoffed dismissively. "He’s just a kid. What could he possibly know? Besides, your job isn’t even worth much. If you lose the files, you lose them. Worst case, you get fired." I chuckled coldly but said nothing. She had no idea it was the proposal her daughter had spent an entire month working on. And I was the client who held her daughter’s fate in my hands.

My younger brother, Andrew Midler, pushes me off a cliff, and my life hangs by a thread. Yet my mother, Edith Callahan, the leader of the rescue team, only busies herself with checking on Andrew, who has sprained his wrist. I beg in a faint, faltering voice for her to save me. She, however, looks at me with cold indifference. "Your brother is hurt! Why didn't you protect him? And now you're pretending to be weak? Well, you can stay here by yourself and reflect on what you've done!" She turns and orders the entire rescue team to leave, forbidding anyone from helping me. In the end, I die alone in the desolate wilderness. Upon learning of my death, Mom hysterically holds my already decaying body close, calling me her precious son repeatedly.

On my birthday, my mother-in-law had just been wheeled out of surgery, only to be sent straight back into the ER. In a video newly posted by an intern, he was shown holding a scalpel and cutting my mother-in-law open, while the lead surgeon, who was my wife, was nowhere in sight. “Who says interns aren’t qualified to operate? No worries. My Dr. Lover dotes on me.” Colleagues flooded the comment section, saying the couple was sweet and that they were shipping them. I forwarded the video straight to the hospital director. Not long after, my wife called me. Her breath ragged and voice fragmented. “So I forgot your birthday. Is that reason enough for you to go to the director and accuse me of violating hospital rules? “I’m so done with your unreasonable behavior! Even if my mother sides with you this time, I’m still getting a divorce…” She hung up before I could respond. What she didn’t know was that her mother wouldn’t be taking my side anymore. Because the patient who went into massive postoperative hemorrhage and died during resuscitation, under the lead of an intern, was her mother.

As the owner of a small private business, I had never been stingy with my employees. Having made a million in profit, I distributed $850,000 to them. I believed this would win people’s hearts. I never expected it would lead to being reported by my own employees. "We have received an anonymous tip-off from your company’s employees alleging arbitrary wage deductions and unfair profit distribution. The report further states that company discipline is disorganized and that employees are being compelled to work overtime, constituting a serious violation of labor laws. Immediate corrective action is hereby required, along with a fine of $500,000." Fine. Since they were so dissatisfied with my policies, then we would do things by the book—by the rules every other company followed. I would keep every last cent of this one million in profit.

After Dad went bankrupt, Mom immediately started fighting for a divorce. I did not fight or argue, just watched coldly as my sister, Jessica Shaw, shoved me aside and threw herself at Dad. She cried out, "Dad, don't be sad! I'll stay with you!" In my past life, after our parents divorced, Jessica went with our wealthy Mom while I ended up with bankrupt Dad. However, what no one expected was that Mom's remarriage turned into a disaster when she married a scumbag who not only drained her assets but left her with nothing in the divorce. Jessica suffered right along with her. Meanwhile, Dad made a comeback and became wildly successful, eventually turning into a wealthy tycoon. Jessica grew bitter seeing me live well. Under the guise of catching up, she orchestrated a car accident that killed me. When I opened my eyes again, we had both traveled back to the day our parents filed a divorce. This time, Jessica shot me a smug smile and declared first, "I love Dad, so I want to stay with him." Little did she know, I could not have been happier with this arrangement. After all, I refused to spend another lifetime hiding and scraping by.