Unattainable

On our fifth wedding anniversary, my husband cancels a 100-million-dollar business deal to take me on vacation. While we're together, breathless and intimate, I'm about to tell him the news that our IVF finally succeeded when he answers his phone. His Valerian flows, smooth and effortless. "Of course I'm coming to tomorrow's prenatal checkup. That's our baby." "But won't your barren wife get jealous?" The woman on the other end speaks with a sultry lilt. Ethan Shaw traces his tongue along my neck as he responds, "What she doesn't know won't hurt her." My mind went blank, like lightning striking too close. I stuff the pregnancy report back into my pocket without thinking. "Honey, who's that?" Ethan pulls me close by the waist. "Just a business partner in Valeria. Time difference, that's why they're calling now..." I can't process the rest of his words. Ethan doesn't know I understand Valerian. Since he's clearly not excited about our child, I'll make sure this baby grows up without him as a father.

On my birthday, the dining table was loaded with all my favorites. My mom had been cooking and baking the entire afternoon, insisting everything be perfect for when Mike got home from work so we could celebrate together. But then, he called and said his first love had been drugged at a bar, and he had to go help her. I stopped him and begged him not to go. Mike snapped at me. "Jesus, Em, don’t pull this jealous wife crap. She’s alone, defenseless, and unconscious—I can't let some random dude take advantage of her!" My mother heard those words and was so enraged that she had a heart attack. She died on the spot. Just like that, my mom died on my birthday. I called Mike, asking him to attend my mom's funeral. But before he could reply, I saw Cathy Miller's latest Instagram post, captioned: [Mikey… after all these years, it was always you.] Mike had liked it. My thumb moved before my brain caught up, typing out the only words that mattered: [A homewrecker and a lying bastard. Hope you rot together.]

My husband, Finn Dawson, and I get into a car crash on our way home for the holidays. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back to before Finn and I started dating. In my past life, we were married for seven years. We got along well enough, yet he refused to give me a child. Only later did I find out it was because he was still hung up on his true love. Now that I've been reborn, I decide to give him what he wants. He and I delete each other's numbers and keep our distance. We choose wholly different paths in this life. Seven years later, Finn becomes one of the world's best traders. He and his true love, Yvonne Gray, make things official during a class reunion. When he sees that I'm alone, he can't help but mock me. "I know I'm the one you love most, despite living two lives, Sylvia. You don't have to keep waiting around for me, though." I ignore him and hold my son's hand. The blood drains from Finn's face when he sees this, and his eyes turn bloodshot. He snarls, "Didn't you say you would love me forever? Didn't you say you would only have my children?"

On the surface, Connor Shaw appears to be the coolheaded, celibate follower of the Fyerian faith who lives like a monk. All of Jewelton knows that about him. Behind closed doors, however, he suffers from a severe case of compulsive sexual disorder. According to the traditions of the merpeople, a mermaid like Sylvie Waverly will have to marry the first human she meets and perform the ultimate act of intimacy 999 times. Masquerading as a lovesick doormat, Sylvie does everything she can to marry Connor. However, the only one in Connor's heart is Anna Larson, his first love. Everyone assumes Sylvie will get jealous, but all she wants is to complete her mission as soon as possible and return to her own world. Once Connor has bedded her 999 times, Sylvie leaves him without a second thought. By the time Connor realizes Sylvie is the mermaid who saved him all those years ago and that she alone can cure him of his compulsive sexual disorder, it is all too late.

The apocalypse has arrived. I carry multiple special abilities and am humanity's hope. However, my wife tears those powers out of me for the sake of her true love. I'm in unbearable pain. I beg her to stop, telling her I'll die. But she doesn't care at all. "Why are you so selfish? You have so many abilities and won't even give one to Ed. Stop being so dramatic. Why do you get to be the hero while my Ed stays an ordinary person?" What she doesn't know is that each special ability is like a heart—take it away, and the person dies.

William Graham and Jasmine Spencer had been at odds since they were kids. But that year, fate played a trick on them—out of all the eligible matches in their circle, only the two of them were left. William swore he would rather die than marry Jasmine. That piqued her interest. She said, "Great. Then I guess I'm definitely marrying you. Go ahead and drop dead." On their wedding day, William humiliated her by releasing dozens of chickens at the ceremony. With a flat look, Jasmine picked one up and called it "Darling". Just like that, William lost all interest in the joke. He looked at the woman who insisted on marrying him and sneered. "You'll regret this." Three years into the marriage, Jasmine caught William cheating for the ninety-ninth time. It was only then that she finally understood— So this was the kind of regret William had meant.

The Garcia family's notorious illegitimate son — violent, obsessive, and dangerously unstable — had sent out a public marriage summons. One of us, my sister or I, was to become his bride. My father, with his career in ruins and his influence dwindling, had no choice but to agree. In desperation, I begged my boyfriend Eric Jordan to return home and make our engagement official. He did rush back, travel-worn and anxious — but only to ask for my sister's hand in marriage. Shattered, I demanded to know why. Eric frowned, his voice icy. "You're just a foster daughter of the Lynch family. You've eaten their food, lived under their roof for years. And if it weren't for Willa, you would've frozen to death on the street. Now's your chance to repay her. Don't be ungrateful." I refused to stay silent. He shoved me aside in frustration. "I told you — Willa and I are only pretending. Once she's out of danger and that lunatic forgets about the proposal, we'll divorce. I'll come back for you. However, stop embarrassing yourself like this — it's pathetic." What Eric did not know was… Willa Lynch escaped the marriage. However, I did not. Later, on the day of the wedding, as the bridal car passed the Jordan family estate, I looked out the window — and locked eyes with Eric. His face turned pale as a sheet.

I've loved my husband for five years, but he's never reciprocated my feelings. In fact, on the day after my death, he runs straight into his true love's arms. During my absence, he sneers and says, "She's up to her old tricks again." When he receives a call telling him to identify my body, he's excited. He thinks he can see my reaction to having my scheme exposed. He doesn't know that I'm long dead, though.

To help my "destitute" husband pay off his debts, I scavenged for scraps for five years. My son and I survived on expired canned food. That changed on my son's birthday. I saw him in a bespoke suit, spending millions to celebrate the birthday of the woman he truly loved. That was the moment I realized he was actually the most powerful billionaire on Wall Street. To please the love of his life, he let our child be injected with unknown drugs, leaving him on the brink of death. He even forced me to drain my own blood to save her son. Later, I became someone he could no longer reach. I linked arms with a man far more powerful than him and walked away. That once arrogant man ended up kneeling in the Arctic snow, clutching a photo I had burned, weeping like a stray dog.

Yuri's father calls and tells me to send his son, the Alpha heir and my childhood friend, home to meet his further mate. But Yuri Blevin is lying next to me, fast asleep and shirtless. Thinking it's just a joke, I nudge him and say with a light laugh, "Yuri, they said they've arranged a mate for you. What do you think?" He raises an eyebrow and lazily wraps an arm around my waist. "Then make sure you pick a nice suit for me. I trust your taste will impress her." When I freeze and say nothing, Yuri opens his eyes and lets out a carefree chuckle. "Hey, Ophelia, what kind of reaction is that? We're just casual lovers, right? Don't tell me you actually thought I'd make you my future Luna?"