Unattainable

After giving birth to Alpha Wesley Silvermoon's pup, I fell into severe postpartum depression. Whenever the scent he left on me began to fade, I couldn't help but have the urge to hurt myself. It was Wesley who held me tight in his arms, kissing my forehead repeatedly, saying, "Don't be afraid, Maggie. The pup and I will stay with you, always." Every morning, he took me to see a therapist. In the afternoon, he handled the pack's affairs. At night, he fed Brett the pup himself. The dark circles beneath his eyes grew heavier by the day, yet he never once complained. Until one day. Brett was crying for his mother, while I hid in the bathroom, hurting myself. When Wesley saw what happened, he completely lost it. He grabbed me by the throat viciously. "If you don't want a pup, you shouldn't have had one! You gave birth to it, but you can't even take care of it! You don't deserve to be a mother!" He bellowed, "How much longer are you going to torment this family? You want to die so badly? Fine! I'll help you!" The moment he said that, he instantly came back to his senses. He broke his wrist and apologized to me. I didn't say anything, merely staring blankly at the phone that had fallen to the floor. The screen was still lit. 37 missed calls. All from the same name. Rowena Sawthorne. She was someone who had recently returned to the pack. Wesley's first love from his youth. She was healthy, beautiful, confident. She and Wesley were once the celebrity couple that everyone admired. Even Brett, whom I had nearly died giving birth to, would smile when she held him in her arms. Perhaps only she was worthy of being his mate, worthy of being Brett's mother. Maybe, this was for the best. At last, I could die without any worry.

My husband’s first love had a miscarriage. He insisted that it was my doing and forced me to give my daughter up. “If it weren’t for you, Becky wouldn’t have a miscarriage! You should let her have your baby! You must pay for her pain of losing her baby!” I begged for mercy and resisted him. However, he grabbed my hair and kicked my belly even though I had just delivered my baby. He tied me up and locked me up in the basement for fear that I might run away. But I was dying. He even made a nice excuse. “You’re petty and jealous. You harmed Becky too. Since you feel no remorse, I’ll punish you and lock you up in the basement to reflect on your mistakes!” Seven days later, his first love found the baby too noisy and got annoyed by the baby. Suddenly, he thought of me. “Let her have the baby. And see if she’s behaving herself.” Little did he know that I was rotting in the basement with maggots eating away at my body.

Three days before our engagement, Zach Jefferson called me. “We’ll need to postpone the engagement party by a month. That day is Sienna’s first concert since she returned, and I need to be there. “It’s just a postponement. It’s no big deal.” He had postponed our engagement three times that year. The first time was because Sienna Lynch had been hospitalized with appendicitis. He said he had to take care of her and rushed over. The second time, Sienna said she was feeling down. He was worried she might get depressed and immediately booked a flight to see her. It was the third time. I simply said, “Okay.” After hanging up, I turned to the good-looking and refined man beside me. “Are you interested in marrying me?” Later, during Sienna’s concert, Zach left her without hesitation. With red, teary eyes, he rushed to my engagement ceremony. “Yulia, are you really getting engaged to this man?”

My husband, Adrian Cross, was a high-profile lawyer. We'd been married for seven years. I'd always wanted a child of our own, but he had never touched me because his heart belonged to someone else. Not long ago, I got into a car accident trying to save him. He promised he would grant me any wish. Everyone assumed I would ask him to have a child with me, but I calmly asked for a divorce. Adrian laughed, a cruel, public sneer on his face. "Don't pretend," he mocked. "I've never met anyone as shameless as you. You'd risk your life for me, yet you think you could ever leave me?" My heart, long hardened, turned even colder. He had no idea that I had been given a second chance. … In my previous life, I finally became pregnant with his child. But his obsession, the one he couldn't forget, took her own life. All his rage fell on me. On the day I went into labor, he locked me in the basement and forced me to swallow a massive dose of abortion drugs. As blood gushed from me, he laughed like a madman. "Ella died because of you and that wretched child you're carrying. For the pain she endured, you will pay twice over!" I died from hemorrhaging. And he went on to hold a wedding at the grave of his lost love. But reborn, I returned to the day of the car accident, ready to see their doomed love come to its bitter end.

I took my parents-in-law, Edmund and Macy Hale, out to a restaurant. When it was time to pay, we ran into my husband’s female assistant, Vera Rhodes. Seeing Mrs. Hale packing up the leftover bouillabaisse she had been drinking, Vera marched over and slapped the takeaway bag out of her hands. The soup splashed all over Mrs. Hale in an instant. "If you can’t afford to eat here, then don’t come," she sneered. "Look at you, reeking of poverty. How do people like you deserve to be Mr. Orion Hale’s in-laws? Don’t embarrass him." I asked the restaurant to prepare a fresh portion of fish soup to go. Before anyone could respond, Vera slapped me to the ground. "This is a members-only restaurant. You’re using Mr. Hale’s card, aren’t you?" she mocked. "Can’t you earn your own money? You need his money to support your hillbilly parents?" Mr. Hale was so enraged that he was rushed to the hospital. I called Orion and asked him to come sign the surgery consent form. He laughed coldly. "Vera already told me everything. Your dad even needs to trick me into paying medical bills now? Has your whole family gone insane from poverty? "If you’re going to die, then hurry up and die. Just don’t die in front of me. It’s bad luck."

My in-laws were old-fashioned. They insisted that spending New Year's in their hometown was a must for a smooth year ahead. We could not get train tickets, so we decided to drive back. When my wife’s first love heard about it, he insisted on coming with us. He even brazenly took the front passenger seat from me. “Charles, I get carsick easily. I can only sit in the front.” Evan shot me a disdainful look. "It's just a seat. Why are you being so touchy?" “If you knew how to drive, would this even be an issue?” My in-laws chimed in as well. “You’re a grown man. Why are you making such a fuss over something so small?” Outnumbered, I had no choice but to squeeze into the back seat with my in-laws. Then, when we were passing a toll booth, Yvonne spotted a stray dog and was suddenly overcome with compassion. “That poor dog. Let’s bring it home with us.” I immediately objected, “The car is already full. If we bring a dog too, we’ll be over the limit. We won’t even be allowed on the road.” Before I had even finished speaking, Evan turned on me without hesitation. “Charles, in that case, why don’t you give up your seat for the dog? You can just take a cab back!”

The tenth time one of my paintings appeared under my sister Rose's name, I handed Adrian the divorce papers. He raised an eyebrow and tossed the agreement aside without a second glance. "Don't be dramatic. Your hand is ruined -- where would you even go without me?" I said nothing. He smiled, his tone dripping with casual indifference. "You should be grateful. Rose was the one I was supposed to marry. A few paintings is a small price to pay. A little gratitude wouldn't kill you." He blew a ring of cigarette smoke directly into my face. I choked, and the sting brought tears to my eyes. Through the blur, I was transported back to the moment my tendons were severed for his sake -- a pain that had drilled straight to the bone. He thought I had no choice but to take it. What he didn't know was that I'd already accepted an offer from the Royal Academy of Arts in London. Soon, I would be free of him for good.

While I was five months pregnant, my husband, Randall Harris, accompanied his assistant to the hospital for an IV drip.   He even posted a selfie with her on social media.   I called him, and he lied straight to my face, saying he was stuck in a meeting at the office.   When I confronted him, he fought with me, gave me the cold shoulder, and then went straight back to his assistant for comfort.   “Are you sure you don’t want to notify the baby’s father? The surgeon asked me. “After this surgery, you won’t ever be able to have children again.”  I closed my eyes.  “He’s dead to me.” 

I've transmigrated into a world where people will die if they don't cheat on their partners. The system tells me that I need to carry out the entire plot before I can finally go home. So, I play the role of a good wife during the day and carry out my duties as a great "friend" at night. I'm a master when it comes to time management. When I finally reach the end of the plot, I break up with my side piece, Xavier Dawson, first. Xavier bursts into tears instantly. "I don't mind the fact that you have a husband, yet your husband minds you having a side piece! Can't you tell who here loves you even more?" Left without a choice, I decide to file for a divorce from my husband, Rafael Cortez. Rafael gets mad at me this time. "You cheating on me is purely business between you and your side piece! How is this related to me? Why must I be involved in your business?" Heh! If not for the fact that I know both Xavier and Rafael have a first love each, I might have believed their lies!

I had poured my heart into planning the perfect wedding—for my female client. Then I turned a corner and saw her kissing my boyfriend at the stairwell. He chuckled softly. "No wonder you're my wife. You're stunning." She let out a soft laugh. "Your little secret girlfriend still does not know you're marrying me. She actually wished me happiness—can you believe it? So… when are you planning to tell her?" He tilted her chin and said, "Didn't we agree? Once we're married, we each live our own lives. Teresa is the love of my life. I hope you'll keep your mouth shut." She gave a snort of laughter and yanked playfully on his tie. "Relax, babe. As long as you keep treating me right, I won't stir up trouble." I felt like I had plunged into an ice bath. Face pale, hands trembling, I picked up my phone and texted my mentor: [I'm ready to take the transfer to Luminous City.] The reply came not long after: [Three days from now. We'll go together.]