South Park Ike Broflovski

Our third wedding anniversary was coming up, but my wife, a programmer at a major tech company, suddenly claimed she had to work overtime to meet deadlines. She said she couldn't go on the trip we'd planned. That very afternoon, however, her intern posted a video on social media. My wife—the same woman who normally wouldn't even open a door for fear of chipping her manicure—was holding a screwdriver, repairing an old flip phone. The caption read: [Having a programmer wife is the best. Even when Grandma's phone breaks, we don't need to pay for repairs.] I chuckled, liked the post, and commented: [Right up her alley.] Within minutes, the company group chat exploded. There were over ninety-nine unread messages speculating on when I'd finally snap. Not long after, my wife called. Her voice was ice-cold. "What was that comment supposed to mean? How is Shawn supposed to face anyone at work now? "His grandma's phone broke, so I fixed it. What's the problem? Your parents have always spoiled you. You can't possibly understand real hardship. "Delete the comment. I'll make it up to you over the New Year; we can take that trip then." The New Year? I'd already waited through two other major public holidays. I'd even taken special leave for this trip, and she still bailed. Now she was dangling empty promises again? I hung up on her. My leave ended around the same time as our divorce cooling-off period.

In the final stages of a terminal illness, my family abandoned me and threw me into a horror game. [Another one here to die. I bet she won't last the first night.] [Just listen to that cough. I'm scared she'll die right inside my phone.] On the first night, the head nurse made her rounds, prepared to execute any player whose heartbeat was abnormal. My heartbeat remained steady only because my body was too weak to fluctuate—and I even helped her sew up the tear in her uniform. "Miss, your clothes are torn. You'll get cold. If I mend it for you, you won't be cold anymore." On the second night, the surgeon swung his scalpel, determined to cut away anything imperfect. I handed him a wrist guard I'd made myself, watching his trembling hands. "Doctor, your talent shouldn't be buried by pain." … On the final day, the ultimate Boss gave me a choice: leave with a healthy body, or stay and perish with these strange beings. Back in the real world, the parents who had abandoned me were suddenly in tears, begging me to come home and split the money. I smiled and said to the creatures inside the instance, "I choose to trade my life… for a home for all of you." The next second, a burst of golden light erupted from the system. [Congratulations, player. You have triggered the one and only hidden ending—Divine Redemption.]

"Sean, I've made up my mind, I'm going to marry you!" Janice Douglas played with her left hand's fingertips absentmindedly, her eyes locked on the swinging door of the nearby private room. On the other end of the call, the man let out a low chuckle, warm yet laced with a cool, worldly detachment. "Ms. Douglas, are you sure about this? Marrying into our families is a one-way street, no U-turns." "I'm sure!" Janice did not even pause before she shot back, her voice slicing through any second thoughts. "Fine, I'll be back in ten days. Pick me up at the airport, and we'll head straight to make it official."

All it takes for me to be locked inside a sauna for eight hours is an accidental splash of hot water on Wayne Miller's secretary's hand. Right before I lose consciousness, he finally orders someone to let me out. He hisses, "Consider this a warning. If I ever see you lay a hand on Naomi again, I won't let you off so easily." I lie on a stretcher and answer with quiet composure, "Understood."

My mother kept a red notebook recording all of my sister's favourite things. She had a blue notebook for me too. When my mother was hospitalized, I took leaves from work to take care of her. My sister had never shown up. However, my mother recorded in the blue notebook, '15th March, I am not well and am hospitalized. Celine owed me 450 dollars for food allowance. I knew that was not a notebook about my favourite things, but a notebook of all of my expenses. Behind the closed doors, Mother said to Father, "Celine is an evil person. She always likes to compete with her sister. We must take a chance to steal all her money and leave with Belle. Later when we are old, we will ask her to take care of us. I think we should just ask her to pay us back all the money we spent on her that I have recorded in this notebook. I was devastated at that moment.

After my eight-year-old twin sister was kidnapped, my dad became the person who wished for my death more than anyone else in the world. He would always say, "Zachary is an ungrateful brat! A good-for-nothing!" So, when the news of my disappearance reached the school, my dad leads everyone in cheers. He even spreads word of my misdeeds everywhere. "Zachary stole a poor student's tuition fees and even made a false police report accusing the teacher of hitting him!" "That's right! He even helped traffickers kidnap children—his own sister was almost sold by him! I hope he dies soon!" Five years later, my memories are extracted and projected onto a large display screen. And yet my dad, who hates me to the core and wishes for my death, falls to his knees and begs for my forgiveness the moment he learns of my death.

To help my surgeon husband with his erectile dysfunction, I made an appointment with an expert six months in advance. But as the day approached, Isiah Coleman canceled it without explanation. Just as I was about to call him to demand answers, I spotted a post from his female friend on her social media. My usually stoic husband was beaming as he wrapped his arms around her. The caption read: [Only I can cure your illness.] What struck me, though, was the telltale bulge in his pants in the photo—a reaction I'd never seen from him with me. With a cold laugh, I liked the post and left a comment: [What a miracle worker!] The post exploded, with everyone speculating whether I'd confront the mistress. But what awaited him after the holiday was our freshly printed divorce certificate.

On the night before our wedding, my fiancée's ex-boyfriend lost in three rounds of Truth or Dare. Round One was Truth. He had to confess the most intimate thing he'd ever done with the opposite sex. Rob Ross shot me a wink. "That scar on Dorothy's thigh? I accidentally bit her there." Round Two was Truth again. He had to reveal a secret no one else in the room knew. He blushed a little. "When Dorothy was fast asleep, I took care of her physical needs for her." Round Three was Dare. He had to kiss a lady in the room for a full ten seconds. Without hesitation, he turned and kissed my fiancée, Dorothy Bryant. Dorothy froze for a moment, then held the back of his head and kissed him back. As the room watched in shock, she pulled Rob behind a screen, and they proceeded to entwine passionately, oblivious to the stares. The entire room fell into a stunned, suffocating silence. Every pair of eyes swiveled toward me. They all braced for an explosive outburst. But when the pair finally emerged from behind the screen, still lost in each other, I was the first to break the tension by clapping enthusiastically. "Such being the case, why not make him the groom tomorrow?"

Before Mom's surgery, Mason—yeah, the Mason Leonhart from one of Brighton's big-name families—suddenly "had" to go on a business trip and couldn't be at the hospital. A few hours later, Judy Yeager blasted a video on social. There was Mason, Mr. Born-With-A-Silver-Spoon, recycling bottles with her. Caption: [If we work hard together, no hardship can scare us.] I couldn't resist. [Future Leonhart heir, worth ten billion, still helping his girl recycle bottles to trade in for cash—heartwarming.] It vanished in seconds. My phone lit up. Mason's voice? Ice cold. "Shiloh Harrington, what was that? Call Judy. Tell her you were joking." I laughed. "Keep playing your little poor-boy cosplay without me." Hung up. Three days till the divorce cooling-off ended. Then Mason could be the broke man he was pretending to be.

I gave him my heart, and he gave his mother the power to break it. For years, Bella endured a loveless marriage built on her silence and sacrifice. Eric, the man she had married, chose his love and loyalty to his overbearing mother over protecting his wife. When the humiliation became unbearable after letting another woman into their home, Bella finally walked away. Then came Cole Warren, A wealthier billionaire than Eric. He was everything Eric wasn't. With Cole, Bella found peace and the love she had begged Eric for. But fate had one last twist. Bella was already pregnant and with Eric's child. Now, Eric wants her back. But Bella isn't the same woman he abandoned.