Sweetie Fox Nezuko

In eight years together, my boyfriend—Shayne Raffield—blocked me eighty-eight times. This time? Because I missed his call. At my best friend's birthday party. Usually, I'd panic-order a gift, then stand outside his office, head down, ready to beg. But today? I blocked him first. The Chat Feed popped up, loud as ever: [Nooo, Ley-Bae, don't block Shay-Shay! He's just got abandonment issues. Comfort him!] [Shay's heart = shattered; Eyes = red. Ley, go! One pout and he's yours again!] Then Shayne called. Didn't say a word. Just breathed for ten seconds and hung up. The Chat Feed freaked out. [AHHHH SHAY LOVES LEY SO MUCH HE JUST SUCKS AT SAYING IT. THIS COWARD'S GONNA LOSE HIS GIRL.]

After my girlfriend returns from a month-long business trip with her first love, she notices that I've changed. She sides with him to take over my project, but I don't quit in anger. Instead, I throw myself into helping him, even drafting proposals for him. She destroys the design I worked so hard on to help him snag the year-end bonus, yet I don't try to defend myself. I take all the blame and let her punish me however she likes. Even when she goes as far as to promote him to general manager against the rules, I don't get upset. I hand over all my shares, letting her distribute them as she wishes. My girlfriend wonders why I've suddenly become so submissive, while her first love just grins smugly. "See? I told you—giving him the cold shoulder works. Once he's afraid of losing you, he'll fall in line," he says. It clicks for my girlfriend. She smiles, tells me I've been good, and offers me a promotion. Then, she unexpectedly asks me to propose. But she doesn't seem to realize that while we weren't speaking, she has already signed my resignation papers. And I've already broken up with her. From this moment on, I sever all ties with her, and we no longer have anything to do with each other.

Just because I point out a mistake in the intern, Lester Hale's proposal that can cost the company millions of dollars, he feels embarrassed and goes straight to Sandra Wendell, the CEO, threatening to quit. The next second, she storms into my office and starts grilling me. "Couldn't you have spoken to him privately? Lester's young, and his ego's fragile. Why did you have to humiliate him in front of everyone? Don't forget, his dad's a major shareholder. I'm giving you two options now. "One, I'll promote Lester, give him a raise, and you'll become his assistant. That way, I'll agree to officially announce our relationship. Two, keep acting like this, and we break up." When I remain silent, she smirks triumphantly. "I knew you'd never pass up a chance to go public with our relationship. Now, you can clear your office for Lester. Later—" But I calmly cut her off, "Sorry, but I choose the second option, and I'm resigning. I wish you and Lester a happily ever after."

To help her lover win the rally championship, my fiancée, Alanna Johnson, deliberately sabotaged my race car. The vehicle lost control on a curve at nearly two hundred miles per hour, and in utter despair, I called her one last time. Her voice, however, brimmed with impatience. “Stop being dramatic. “This championship means nothing to you, but Jack is about to retire. This is his final chance. “Once this race ends, I’ll cut all ties with him and marry you. All right?” But she never realized that this event had drawn unprecedented global attention. After my death, the in-car surveillance footage would be released to the world. And she would face a judgment far worse than death.

When I stepped aside and handed the starting spot on the esports team to the guy Zara Moody had always loved, she saw how obedient I had been and moved our wedding up as a reward. But at the ceremony, the man she could never forget suddenly pulled out a knife and cut himself, jealousy burning in his eyes. "Please don't marry him!" Zara, who was usually so calm, instantly lost her composure. She turned to me, panic written all over her face as she begged me to help save him. Every guest in the room was watching, waiting to see how I would react. I didn't argue or cause a scene. Instead, I quietly stepped aside and gave up the groom's place. When Zara saw how reasonable I was, just like always, her eyes reddened at the corners. "I promise this is the last time I'll ever put you through something like this. After the ceremony, we'll go register our marriage." What she forgot was that this was the 96th time she had hurt me. And I had no intention of spending the rest of my life with her. I was only waiting for three more promises. Once I repaid the debt I owed her for saving my grandmother's life all those years ago, I would walk away from her for good. After that, we would never see each other again.

On Children's Day, the most popular social media post is about me. The caption is: "Mr. Shane Norton spends his birthday with his son David Norton and his first love, Ruth Feynman. Has he finally decided to divorce Ayla Sanderson?" I quietly press the "like" button. When my phone rings, I'm in the midst of taking down the balloons I put up for our wedding anniversary. "Honey." My husband sounds anxious as he tries to explain himself. "David suddenly insisted that we go to a theme park, so I—" In the background, I hear David laughing. "Dad, Ruthie says that I can sleep with her tonight!" I look at the mess in the house. The balloons are drooping, and the cream on the cake is congealed. "You don't have to explain," I hear myself say. "I understand." It's just that this time, I don't want you or David any longer, Shane.

On the day our company went public, my wife deliberately picked a fight. She accused me of dragging the company down and demanded that I hand over the R&D rights for our new product to her first love. Instead of getting angry, I actually laughed. I even gave up my position and sincerely told her, “R&D is exhausting. Why don’t I just let him be the chief instead?” Everyone around us was stunned. They thought I had finally snapped from the stress. However, no one knew the truth. The final material that made the product actually work was incredibly complex, and I was the only one who knew how to make it. Without me, the product they had spent a whole year developing turned out to be nothing but trash. My wife’s company would have to shoulder all the losses, along with a massive compensation payout on the way.

When my wife, also the president of a company, learned that I had voluntarily donated part of my brainstem tissue to awaken her long-cherished love, who had been lying in a coma, she finally left the abbey where she had been praying for his recovery for the first time in seven years. She came to the company and asked what compensation I wanted. Everyone assumed I would seize the chance to ask her for a child to secure our marriage. Instead, I handed her a divorce agreement. For a moment, the entire office thought I was simply playing hard to get. My wife’s expression turned icy. She stripped me of every position I held, then immediately promoted her beloved man and raised his salary, telling me to reflect on my mistakes. Little did she know… The surgery had cost me my memory. The man standing before her now was no longer the husband who had swallowed every grievance. He was now the spirited young man from seven years ago. And this time, he would never sacrifice himself again.

On the 99th time we fall into a frosty standoff, my girlfriend, Christina Davenport, does something she's never done before—she caves and breaks the silence. But she only does so to give me a way out because she's about to leave on a month-long business trip with her longtime crush, Adrian Blackwell. This time, I, Jeremiah Kane, don't argue with her. Instead, I make her breakfast and see her off with a smile. Christina pinches my cheek and smiles at me as if I were a puppy. "You're being such a good boy today. When I get back, I'll say yes to your marriage proposal, okay?" What she doesn't know, however, is that the people who are truly intending to leave don't make a scene. A month later, she returns home glowing with happiness, only to find a completely empty apartment. That's when the panic sets in.

On the day I miscarried and suffered from haemorrhage, my husband posted a photo of a newborn’s tiny feet on his Instagram Story. The caption read: “Welcome, little angel. Daddy will always protect you.” With trembling hands, I called him. “The baby’s gone. Can you come to the hospital?” On the other end, I heard a baby crying, followed by the man’s impatient voice. “In that case, take good care of yourself. Louise just gave birth and needs someone to care for her. I can’t leave. “Besides, the dead shouldn’t compete with the living for affection. Got it?” He hung up right after. I broke down alone on the hospital bed, and when I finally wiped away my tears, I dialed the number of his sworn enemy, Levi Snow. “Marry me, and the entire Wright Corporation will be my dowry. All I want is for you to bring Finn Yeaton down. Do we have a deal?”