Tragic Ending

At the end of the day, my colleague, Melody Christie, came to find me. She wanted me to cover her night shift. I turned her down because I had commitments after work. That night, she was caught abandoning her shift and she got fired. Melody blamed me for it. Just when I was almost going into labor, she pushed me down the stairs. "Do you know how hard I worked to get this job? If it was not for you, I wouldn't have been fired! If I'm going down, I'm taking you down with me!" I died, and my baby did not survive either. When I opened my eyes once more, I was back to the same day when Melody asked me to cover her shift. Only this time, I knew the truth. Turns out, she had left her shift for a rendezvous with my husband.

Ophelia loved Dylan, the Alpha of the pack, with all her heart—but to him, she was merely a plaything, a lowly maid unworthy of his regard. His destined bride was Caroline, the noble-born Beta's daughter. When forced to send one of the two women to a rival pack in exchange for a life-saving antidote... who would he choose?

"Are you sure you want to do this? If you go through it, you’ll no longer be Luna and might become a rogue." "I'm sure." I removed our wedding ring, which he slipped into my fingers three years back on the desk as payment. "Alright, when your werewolf Valentine’s Day arrives, I’ll help you break the mate bond with Alpha Owen." The witch used a dagger to cut my palm and let the blood pour into a test tube. Ten days later, I endured the unbearable pain of severing the mate bond. I changed the surname I had followed for three years, obtained a new identity, and drove away from the Starry Pack in a second-hand car bought from the black market. Owen, you will never find me again. You should have known it would end like this from the day you betrayed me. One month later, a question exploded on social media, spiraling out of control. #Where did Luna Kya go?#

My name is Regina Chavez. The first time Carter Gresham cheats, he falls to his knees before me, slapping himself in shame. The tenth time I catch him, he smiles and tries to comfort me. "Once I get my heart back on course, I'll come back to the family." The 20th time, his patience snaps. He yanks my hand away and throws a divorce agreement in my face. I tear the papers to shreds and spend the night destroying everything in the house. By the 30th time, Carter simply sends a signed divorce agreement. In a desperate bid to make him come back, I threaten to cut my wrists. But even as my blood pools across the floor, no one seems to care. When I wake up, his friends are gathered around me, telling me to get a divorce. "Haven't you already spent years building a life with Carter?" "He's already dealing with enough because of your depression. His seeing someone else isn't the end of the world. Do you really need to cry and threaten to kill yourself over it?" Without thinking twice, I find myself signing the divorce papers. The following day, I quietly schedule an abortion, keeping it a secret from everyone. I'm done waiting for Carter to come back.

In their four years of marriage, Ethan Sterling had always refused to visit any romantic couple destinations with his wife, Pearl Whitmore. He said she was shallow and just chasing trends. However, when his first love came back from overseas, he could not wait to take her up the legendary mountain where it was said couples who climbed it successfully would grow old together. Pearl divorced him and moved abroad. However, Ethan followed her to the new country, sobbing as he searched for her in the ruins...

Pitong taon na kaming kasal ni Zackary at sa wakas ay nagkaroon na kami ng unang anak. Ngunit nang makita ang resulta ng pagbubuntis, naghinala siyang hindi kanya ang bata. Dahil sa galit, nagpa-paternity test ako sa kanya. Noong araw na lumabas ang resulta, si Zackary, na dapat ay nasa ospital, ay nagpakita sa aking pintuan. May hawak siyang litrato. Makikita sa litrato na nasa bahay ng kaibigan niya ang underwear ko. Sinipa niya ako ng malakas kaya nawala ang baby ko. Sumigaw siya, "You bitch, ang lakas ng loob mo na lokohin ako. Hindi ako magpapalaki ng anak ng ibang lalaki, alam mo ‘yon. Go to hell!" Nang maglaon ay nalaman niya ang katotohanan at nakiusap sa aking patay na anak na bumalik.

I had been sneaking around behind my brother’s back with Eden Smith, his best friend's brother. He pulled me close by the waist and drove us wild in all kinds of places. At bars, in the wild, and in even empty public restrooms, he was always eager for more. It was like unlocking new levels in a game. He was five years younger than me. He always called my name in his pitiful and innocent tone while gripping my waist with renewed vigor. He never let me escape. “L-let me go!”

My daughter, Annabelle Turner, was diagnosed with hereditary heart disease. I spent the past five years searching for a compatible heart donor for her. Now, I finally found one. Right before Annabelle is sent into the surgery room, my husband and renowned cardiologist, Gabriel Turner, tearfully makes me a promise. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll make sure Annabelle gets a shot at life again." Yet halfway through the surgery, Gabriel suddenly leaves in a hurry without giving any explanation. I stumble into the surgery room and see Annabelle lying on the operating table, covered in blood. Her chest is cut wide open, laid bare for all to see. Tyler Rotwell, Gabriel's assistant, stammers out, "Dr. Turner said… that Anna can still hold on a little longer, but Ms. Byron's son can't. "Dr. Turner took the heart that was meant for Anna and left…" I immediately break down and repeatedly call Gabriel's number, but Gabriel never answers a single call, not even when Anna's blood has completely dried… While settling my daughter's post-mortem affairs, I happen to see a newly posted update on Gabriel's childhood friend, Suzanne Byron's social media. "Turns out it was just a misdiagnosis," was what the caption read. "In that case, let's give this useless little thing to our good boy Oscar as a treat!" The video attached depicts Suzanne's dog Oscar tearing into the heart that was supposed to be donated to Annabelle. As I turn to look at Annabelle's cold body, the last shred of love I have for Gabriel starts crumbling apart. By the time Gabriel finally remembers Annabelle, whom he left on the operating table, only an empty bedroom and an urn containing her ashes would greet him…

My husband, Malcolm Thorpe, has low sperm motility. After 33 rounds of IVF, I finally got pregnant. On delivery day, I start hemorrhaging, and the medical team calls for an emergency C-section. Malcolm signs the consent form, then rushes straight back to his childhood sweetheart's birthday party. But instead of starting the C-section, the surgeon says, "Ms. Jacobson, the electronic medical record lists you as single. This consent form isn't valid." I stop breathing for a beat. The happy marriage I believe in turns out to be a sham. Later, Mom and Dad rush in and sign the consent for me. But by then, the baby is gone. The asphyxia lasted too long. After surgery, I scrawl my name on the cremation consent with shaking hands, then dial a number without thinking. "Samuel, are you free now? Meet me in front of City Hall."

A flash flood swept down from the mountains, causing me to become caught in a car crash. As five steel bars pierced through me, I could feel my blood pouring out in torrents as my life hung by a thread. My husband rushed to the scene. Instead of coming to me, he cradled his true love from the passenger seat and walked away. He didn't even glance in my direction. I was in and out of the ICU three times, clinging to life. Not once did he visit me. His attention was wholly fixed on the girl, who only had a mild concussion. After nearly ten years of deceiving myself, I couldn't keep playing the fool any longer. The day I was discharged, I asked my husband, Dominic Davis, for a divorce. I had survived by sheer luck, and I wasn't about to waste any more time with a husband who didn't love me.