Scrambled

On Independence Day, I was on my way to my boyfriend's house when a car slammed into me. The stretch of road was deserted. The collision jammed my door shut, and the acrid smell of gasoline filled the air. My car was about to explode. I scrambled for the emergency hammer, only to find it had been swapped out for a pink toy mallet. Panic rising in my chest, I dialed my boyfriend's number. To my horror, his ringtone sounded from the very car that had crashed into me. He stepped out, arm wrapped around his childhood sweetheart. She put on a pitiful face, tears in her eyes. "Oh no, I'm so clumsy. It's my first time driving, and I hit someone." When my boyfriend realized the victim was me, he didn't hesitate to console her. "Don't worry. She must have collided with you on purpose." I pounded on the window, desperate. "Nick! The emergency hammer's been switched out. Help me get out of here!" His childhood sweetheart lit up with a mischievous smile. "Katie, I swapped it! Isn't the pink hammer super cute?" Disgust flickered across Nick's face. "It's just a little crash. Get out on your own." By now, thick smoke was pouring into the car, and the heat was searing my lungs. I begged him to save me. But the girl only giggled, covering her nose in mock annoyance. "Katie, why are you cooking in there? The smoke is awful." Then she patted her stomach. "Oops, my tummy is rumbling. Nick, let's go home and eat." He tightened his hold around her and turned to leave. "Enough already. Stop pretending. My parents are waiting for us at home." Just as suffocation closed in on me, I slammed my hand against the car's emergency distress button.

Victor Gunner, my husband, is a man of his prime - wealthy, attractive and the brilliant CEO of Gunner Holdings, Inc. with stakes in the aviation and maritime industries. People often question why he married me because it was certainly not a love match nor was it a union of convenience. I believe it was because Victor felt ready and I was available. When I accepted his proposal, I naively thought my love was big enough for the two of us until he proved me wrong. Three years and our marriage began to crumble. For one, I can’t give him an heir. Then came Victor’s past love with a child in tow. A child who looks strangely like my husband. For the first time in years, I saw excitement filling Victor’s eyes. He dotes on them, recreating the dream of a perfect family, while I was gradually being cast aside, relegated to watching them enviously on the sidelines. I tried fighting for my place, but how can one fight a battle lost before it has begun? I had no place in his perfect family so when he proposed divorce, I accepted and never looked back. When we met again, I was an emerging heiress divorcee of our time, given countless accolades due to my work with women who underwent trauma in their relationships. It gave me immense satisfaction that for the first time, Victor saw my worth and wanted me back. Unfortunately, he has to fall in line. Three other men want me, too. All are wealthy, attractive and doting not only to me, but to my triplets as well. I watched in amusement how our roles quickly reversed. Now, Victor scrambled to beat all those men. But can he win this fight? Can love bloom beyond goodbye?

To settle a debt of gratitude, Adriana Adler left her first love and married Chris Slater—a man who, by all appearances, was paralyzed from the waist down. For five years of marriage, he had been her husband. Before that, he'd been the protector she'd known since they were kids. She played her part as his devoted wife—the quiet shadow behind his wheelchair. Chris was certain that no matter how openly he doted on his ex-fiancée—who had just returned from overseas with a child—Adriana would never leave him. What he didn't know was that in Adriana's heart, only obligation remained. The love had died years ago. The day the truth came out, she set the divorce papers calmly in front of him. He panicked. His eyes burned as he grabbed for her, desperate, clinging like she was the only thing keeping him grounded. Adriana looked down at his legs—standing firm and strong—and felt a deep, icy quiet fill her chest. Five years of lies. Five years stolen from the man she truly loved. There would be no forgiveness. The once-untouchable Chris dropped to one knee, his eyes red-rimmed and raw. "Adriana… you're all I have left." Her expression didn't waver. Not a flicker of softness crossed her face. She stepped back toward the man she'd never stopped loving, her voice steady. "But you're not all I have, Chris." He was the power player all of high society scrambled to please—the one who'd lit up her younger years. He'd always assumed she would love him forever; it never crossed his mind she might walk away. But the poised, mixed-heritage gentleman who'd loved her all along said nothing. He simply slid a priceless diamond ring onto her finger. This was the day he had waited five years for. This was the happiness Adriana should have had all along.