To My Future Wife

My brother-in-law had a sudden heart attack. The doctor said only my wife could perform the specific surgery he needed. It was a critical situation. By the time I finally managed to get through to her, her childhood sweetheart answered the phone. "We're just about to head out camping," he said casually. "We won't be coming back tonight." My heart sank. "Ryan had a heart attack. He needs surgery immediately. Tell her to come back to the hospital—now." Instead, my wife's irritated voice cut through. "Are you done? How dare you make up a lie like that and curse my brother!" Before I could explain, she hung up. When I tried calling back, her phone was already off. In the end, my brother-in-law died because the window for surgery closed. And my wife lost her mind.

I'm married to Don Antonio Gallo for ten years. My hands, which are originally meant to play the piano, have learned to assemble guns and take apart bombs for him. I was there with Antonio when he was just a lowly criminal, and I witnessed his entire journey to the summit, where he claimed the throne as the king of the underground casino. But right after Antonio becomes successful in life, he gets infatuated with a pure and innocent maiden from the slums. That maiden is Silvia Bianchi. She was delivered to Antonio's bed like cargo. A maiden like her is as pure as an angel, yet so delicate like porcelain. For the first time ever, Antonio, who's already used to bloodshed and violence, gets a taste of addiction. He's really good at hiding her presence. I only find out about it when I accidentally come across him and Silvia attending a prenatal checkup together. When I break down and demand an explanation from Antonio, he just hands over a divorce agreement nonchalantly. "Silvia doesn't have anyone to rely on, nor does she have a home to go back to. Once she has a proper title, she and her baby won't get bullied anymore. "If you sign this document, I'll give you 20% of my shares. Once Silvia gives birth to her baby, I'll make sure that the baby acknowledges you as their mother as well. Consider this my compensation to you." Of course, I can't accept it at all. I end up slapping Silvia on the face during her baby's first party. That night, my younger brother, Paolo Romano, gets crippled and strapped to the front of an armored truck. "This is the lesson you shall learn for hurting Silvia, Valentina!" I kneel on the ground and beg Antonio to stop. But the moment the engine starts, I feel Paolo's blood being sprayed all over my face. Sharp pain flares from my abdomen immediately. I can only clutch it while screaming hysterically before passing out. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Antonio and Silvia are attending a prenatal checkup together. This time, I no longer ask Antonio any questions. Instead, I secretly sell all of the jewelry I've secretly kept and buy myself two plane tickets. Now, I just want to escape from Antonio with Paolo by my side.

Sarah is married to a loving husband, Andrew. But sadly she still has feelings for her ex, Ryan, who happens to be Andrew's best friend. Years passed but Sarah never acted on her feelings. But one day, Sarah and Ryan finally give into their desires and start an affair. Despite her guilt, Sarah can't help but be in love with Ryan and she finds herself torn between her husband and her lover. As the affair continues, Sarah begins to realize the consequences of her actions and must decide if she will stay with her husband or risk it all for her forbidden love.

He presses her hard to the wall, but make sure to secure the little girl head, his hands at his ex-wife waist tightened as his trembling lips opened, his voice quivered as he said something near her ears. "I wont be a bad guy anymore Xiara, dont leave me again, okay?" he repeated it over and over again like chanting a spell, but the pit at his stomach only continued to grow. His eyes flash a bit of crazy obsessiveness and paranoia as the hand that hold Xiara head a while ago gently stroke her head with great restraints. Tilting her head, Xiara blinked, "Who are you?"

There's a common secret kept by everyone in the upper crust. Liliana Coolidge loves me, her husband, to the core, and yet she loves the thrill of sleeping with others behind my back. She pampers her side pieces a lot, but there's one taboo that they must follow no matter what. They must never show up in front of me at all. Everyone knows that I'm the man whom she's loved for a decade and the one she almost died to marry. Liliana has made it clear that if I were dead, she'd definitely follow me to the afterlife without a doubt. But this time, her latest side piece is a rebellious one. He actually shows up before me, thinking that he has Liliana to back him up. He spams my phone with tons of used condom photos, together with Liliana's sleeping visage. "Mr. Rivero, the strawberry ribbed condom overstimulates Ms. Coolidge too much, judging from the way she kept moaning the whole night. Had she used it when she was with you in the past?" Only at that moment do I realize that my wife, who loves me to the moon and back, has chosen to pour all the love she has for me while giving her body to other people. As I stare at the photos, I weep until I don't have any tears left. Then, I draft a divorce agreement and leave my signature there. But when I turn around, I notice a 17-year-old version of Liliana standing behind me with tears streaming down her face.

Mom is diagnosed with a benign fibroid during her check-up, but somehow, she ends up getting her entire uterus removed, leading to her getting an infection and dying from it. With the surgical records in hand, I decide to sue the doctor for malpractice. But my wife, Anastasia Ziegler, who's also the director of the hospital, personally steps in to vouch for him. Enraged, I question her why. However, Anastasia just shoves me away coldly. "Your mom was already that old. What use did she have for her uterus? Louis' future is more important! Anyway, I'll waive the hospital bills. You'd better take down the court case, though. Don't embarrass me any further in the hospital." As I gaze at Mom's cold corpse, I can't help but chuckle. It turns out that Anastasia has no idea that her beloved side piece has killed off her actual mom, who had stayed widowed for many years.

At a banquet, Winona Quinton’s stocking got snagged on something. I moved to take her to the dressing room, only to see her male assistant reaching under her skirt. I grabbed his wrist. “What does my wife’s torn stocking have to do with you?” However, Winona shoved me away. “Stop overreacting,” she snapped. “Corey has even changed my underwear before. It’s just stockings.” That night, news of the attentive assistant caring for his female CEO went viral. By the end of the event, I was gone, leaving my resignation letter with the assistant. Upon receiving it, Winona threw it aside. “Jared Strathmore has gone too far. Get him here immediately!” I returned—this time with freshly drafted divorce papers in hand.

On New Year’s Day, my wife specifically asked me to organize the company’s annual banquet. As a top salesperson for three consecutive years, everyone could see how capable I was at my job. I felt a surge of secret delight. I thought my wife was finally going to make our marriage public. After all, we had been married for five years. However, to avoid any misunderstandings, we always claimed we were just superior and subordinate at work. During the banquet, my wife suddenly stood up and gave me an order. “Lucien Jean, Stef Law has worked so hard this year. You need to toast him!” I frowned and ignored her drunken rambling. I continued chatting with a colleague beside me. I did not expect her to point her finger at me and shout. “Why are you so petty?! I’ve told you nothing is going on between us! What good is there to keep picking on a newcomer?!” Puzzled colleagues all turned to look at me. The male assistant’s voice cracked. “Lucien, if you really hate me, I’ll quit right now.” After saying that, he ran out in front of everyone. My wife immediately chased after him. A pleasant dinner party ended in an unpleasant mess. I dialed her rival’s number. “I’ve accepted your job offer. “Within three days, I want to see her company go bankrupt!”

I slipped into a vegetative state because of an accident. For the next five years, my wife, Ella York, remains devoted to me. She turns down all of her admirers and has chosen to raise our child on her own. At the same time, she exhausts herself from taking care of me to the point that she suffers from stomach bleeding. Everyone advises her to find a new man to settle down with. But Ella exclaims in a choked-up tone, "I'll always be Zack's wife for as long as he lives!" When I miraculously wake up from my comatose state, the first thing I do is file for a divorce under the condition that Ella leaves this marriage without a cent to her name. All of my family, friends, and relatives are pissed off at me, to say the least. "You bastard! Ella has stayed by your side for the past five years! How dare you cast her out the moment you wake up!" As I gaze at Ella's tear-streaked face coldly, I say to everyone else, "Go ahead and check the security footage at my son's kindergarten. Then, you'll understand how Ella has taken care of me over the past five years."

When I was seven years old, a handsome man Mom brought home gave me a box of mangoes. That day, Dad watched me happily eating the mangoes as he signed his name on the divorce agreement. Then, he jumped to his death. From that day on, mangoes became a lifelong nightmare for me. So, on our wedding day, I told my wife, Irene Johnson, "If you ever want a divorce, just give me a mango." She held me without saying a word. From that moment on, mangoes became forbidden for her as well. … On the fifth Christmas Eve after we got married, Irene's childhood sweetheart, Steven Carter, placed a mango on her desk. That same day, she announced that she was cutting ties with him and fired him from the company. That day, I felt that she was the woman destined for me. ... Six months later, I return from overseas after closing a billion-dollar deal. At the celebration dinner, Irene hands me a drink. After I drink half of it, Steven, the man who was kicked out of the company, stands behind me and grins. "Is the mango juice good?" he asks. I look at Irene in disbelief, but she is holding back a laugh. "Don't be mad. Steve insisted I play a joke on you. I didn't give you a mango, just a bottle of its juice. "But I think Steve is right. There's something wrong with you for not eating mangoes. Look at how much you enjoyed it just now!" she says. I keep a cold expression, raise my hand, and splash the remaining mango juice onto her face. Then, I turn and walk away. Some things are never a joke. Mangoes aren't, and neither is my decision to divorce.