Sweethearts Cradle

My husband's childhood sweetheart is gravely ill. She says her only wish is to die in his arms. So, she boldly moves into our marital home. I demand an explanation for this, but my husband only snaps at me. "Why are you holding this against her when she already has one foot in the grave? Can't you be more magnanimous?" I sneer at that. Half a month later, the paparazzi catch me coming and going from Novak Group's heir's villa. My husband demands an explanation with bloodshot eyes. I imitate his previous response. "Why are you holding this against him? Can't you be more magnanimous?"

After being reborn, I stopped preventing Rachel Jackson from having any contact with her childhood sweetheart, Logan Cole. She gave Logan all her salary to pursue his dream, while I used the money I earned through hard work to invest. She got pregnant and gave birth to a child for Logan in the hospital, so I bought a train ticket to leave the small town. Later, she said she would agree to marry me as long as I agreed to adopt Logan's child. Unfortunately, I had already made my first million dollars by relying on the memories of my previous life. In this life, I chose to fulfill their wishes and enjoy a good life myself.

On our wedding night, my husband didn't stay long enough to toast with champagne. He left me alone at the reception and retreated to the chapel. Because from the very beginning, this stoic, untouchable man had only ever loved my younger sister. For three years of my marriage, I poured myself into thawing a heart of stone, only to be met with glacial silence. "Claire," he said coldly, "I'd rather take vows of celibacy than ever love you." But when the truck came barreling toward me, the man who had resented me his entire life used his own body to shield mine. Just before I lost consciousness, I saw him gripping the paramedic's sleeve, blood staining his lips. "Don't tell that crazy woman who saved her… And don't let my family… make things difficult for her." Tears welled in my eyes. Only then did I realize I wasn't the only one at fault in this marriage. After coming back to life, I chose to join the United Nations Peacekeeping Forces and head straight to the front lines. If we were never meant to grow old together in this life, then let my final wish for him be this: A lifetime of peace, and an eternity of never crossing paths with me again.

In the two years after Bradley Vaughn's so-called "memory loss," we divorced seven times—all to keep his childhood crush Vivian Monroe happy. Number eight? Because Vivian got pregnant. "You can't have kids anyway. Once Vivian has the baby, we'll get back together. You can raise the kid." That was his usual ice-cold line as he slid the papers across the table. That night, he kicked me out—said Vivian got nauseous just seeing me. I moved into another house. Alone. In the rain. Even after I landed in the ER from a near assault, he didn't bother asking if I was okay. Then one day, I spotted him at a clinic with Vivian. He rubbed her belly and laughed, "So what if she finds out I faked the amnesia? She can't live without me. Toss her a bone, she'll come crawling." I looked away, steady. Then my phone buzzed. [How did your checkup go?]

I vowed to transfer schools with my childhood friend when he claimed he was being bullied. But the day before we were to finalize the transfer, he backed out. His friend teased him. "Man, you faked being a punching bag just to get rid of Alice Wiley? That's cold. You two have been thick as thieves since forever. Are you really cool with her going to a new school alone?" Shane Page brushed it off. "It's just another high school across town. Not a big deal. I'm tired of her always being up my ass. This works out perfectly." I stood frozen outside the door for a long time. Finally, I turned and walked away. On the transfer form, I crossed out Oatheport High and filled in the international academy my parents had been pushing for. Everyone seemed to forget that Shane and I were never equals.

On the day I'm supposed to pick up my bride for the wedding, Tracie Mayer, my supposed wife-to-be as well as the heiress of the Mayer family, is replaced by Jayne Cooper, a widowed fishmonger. Everyone in the groom's party laughs and makes fun of me. "Since when are you this thirsty? You don't mind women who have already given birth before, huh?" "I can't believe the heir of the Reeve family is about to marry a widowed fishmonger! Everyone's going to be tickled pink once word gets out!" My family driver's son, Everett Huffman, provokes me on the spot. "This is for treating me like a lowly servant and ordering me to drive you around! That's why Adeline and Tracie decided to avenge me on your big day!" Realization dawns on me immediately. My older sister, Adeline Reeve, and Tracie are standing up for Everett by putting me down. As I turn to stare at Adeline with red-rimmed eyes, she replies nonchalantly, "It's just a wedding ceremony. Endure it like a tough guy you are. "You and Tracie will still get married. We won't let you marry a widowed fishmonger for real."

On our wedding day, my fiancée humiliated me in front of everyone. She postponed the ceremony, not for an emergency, but to throw a lavish wedding for her childhood friend's pet hamster. Dressed in my tailored suit, I got shoved off the stage and was laughed at by everyone. My mom couldn't take the humiliation. Her heart gave out, and no ambulance could save her. Days after we buried her, my fiancée reappeared, demanding that I donate a kidney to that friend. The surgery nearly killed me, leaving me broken and betrayed. It prompted me to end things with her. She spiraled into regret, tormenting herself to win me back.

I was sitting in City Hall, about to sign that damn mate bond certificate with Logan—Alpha of the Eastside Moonclaws—when his phone buzzed. One glance. Then he stood up like this was all just another errand. Didn’t even flinch when he said: “Something came up. Let’s push the bond signing to another day, yeah?” And just like that, he was gone. Left me sitting alone, surrounded by bonded pairs, all glowing with that sickly sweet “forever” vibe. Why? Because Emma, his darling little childhood packmate, twisted her ankle during pack-speed training—trying to keep up with the advanced wolves when she barely passed the basic shifts. Ten minutes later, I get a text: “Emma’s injury’s kinda serious. I gotta stay with her. Let’s move the wedding, okay?” Just another time—maybe the last—Logan picked her over me. But this time? No tears. No begging. No rage. The clerk gave me a quiet look, like she already knew how the story ended. “Ma’am... do you still want to proceed?” I pulled out my phone.Didn’t wait for him to change his mind. The clerk gave me that soft, pitying look. “Ma’am... do you still want to proceed?” I shook my head, and dialed home. The moment my Beta sister picked up. “Tell Alpha Dad I’m coming back to the Ridge. Today.” A pause. “You sure?” “Yeah,” I said, standing up, my voice steady. “I’m done here.” And just like that, I walked out. Not just from the building—but from him.

How long does it take to give up on a man you've loved for ten years? It takes me 3 seconds. The first second, I signed my name on the contract to become the chief designer of a renowned studio in Paris. The second second, I lock away ten years of my youth in my heart. The third second, I completely prepare to leave Levi's world. My fiancé Levi is the heir of the Smith Group, the absolute aristocracy. For others, he is untouchable. But for me, he's the childhood sweetheart who, with a crooked paper ring he made himself for the first time in his hand, told me, "You're the only girl I'll ever marry, even if I have to wait a hundred years." From that moment on, the only person I wanted to marry was Levi, and I never doubted that I would eventually marry Levi. But on the day of our engagement, he disappeared. I waited for a whole year, waiting for a message, a phone call, or a knock on the door, but nothing came. Later, he finally appeared. He stood next to a red Ferrari, holding flowers, and said that he still loved me, that he wasn't ready before, and begged me to give him another chance. I almost believed him. But at the same time, I received a provocative message from Levi's first love, Ruby: [Aren't you curious where he went during the time he eloped from your engagement? I'm already pregnant with Levi's child, and he loves kissing my pregnant belly the most.] I wiped away my tears, turned around, and applied to study in the Sorbonne University Faculty of Medicine, leaving only one sentence: "Levi, we're breaking up." Learning that I was leaving, Levi went crazy. He braved the heavy rain and blocked the entrance to my new place, his eyes red, asking me: "Stella, if I make Ruby abort the child, can you come back to me?"

Seven years into their marriage, Bella got hit with a truth—Steven had a kid. A six-year-old. She crouched behind the preschool slide, barely breathing, as Steven bent down to scoop the boy up. "Daddy, you haven't come to see me in forever." "Be good, Ollie. Work's been crazy. Listen to your mom, alright?" Bella froze. Same face. Same eyes. It was obvious. Everything about them screamed it—The man who swore he'd love her forever had been cheating on her this whole time. Steven and Bella weren't just a couple. They were childhood sweethearts. She once took a knife for him. Nearly died. Lost their baby. Lost the chance to ever have one again. Steven had held her hand back then, eyes red, saying, "I don't care if we never have kids. As long as I have you, that's enough." She still heard the shake in his voice. Now? Every promise. Every memory. All of it—gone.