Category: English

I almost died from severe bleeding while giving birth to my daughter. My husband Arthur was not around, he told me on the phone that he wished he could drop everything and come back to me. But later I found out wedding photos of him and his first love on his other Twitter account. The date was the same day I had my difficult labor…

When I first met my boyfriend’s twin, he asked, “Can you tell us apart?” Back then, I nodded confidently. Later, they blindfolded me and made me guess. If I got it wrong, I’d get punished…

Abby “If you want to meet with the Alpha, you’ll have to book ahead of time. And he’s booked out for three months.” The cool words of Karl’s secretary run through my mind for the millionth time. I tried reminding her he’s also my husband, but it didn’t matter. He’s been so busy with work that I haven’t spoken to him in a month. But it’s finally Christmas and all the Alphas are expected to be home celebrating with their families. I stop in front of the mirror one last time, just to make sure everything’s perfect. I run my fingers through my silky black hair, marveling at the new color. He loves black hair, so I decided to surprise him. I’m wearing a red lingerie set I bought especially for tonight and red lipstick to match. I feel Karl’s presence, and turn to look at him, a wide smile already on my face. I have to resist the urge to run across the room and jump into his arms. His expression is unreadable. His brown eyes meet mine, but there’s none of the usual warmth when he looks at me. “What’s wrong?” I ask, taking a step forward. His eyes sweep over me, but he doesn’t comment on what I’m wearing, or my hair. “Abby.” His voice is harsh, and I shrink back a little. “Let’s get a divorce.” Three Years Later “Hey, Abby.” I smile at my restaurant manager, Olivia. “Hey, how are things going out here?” I walk around the front desk to stand beside her. “Another busy night, it seems.” I look around at the packed restaurant. “Sure, is.” A sudden feeling of pride flows through me. When I started here, hardly anyone knew about this place. Now it’s one of the most popular eateries in the capital, all thanks to me and my team. My best friend Chloe walks in with her friend, Jennine, her smile widening at the sight of me behind the counter. She walks up and nods hello to Olivia. “Look at you.” Chloe practically beams with excitement, and I can’t help but grin. “If he could see you now.” I don’t have to ask to know she’s talking about Karl. It’s been three years since the divorce. At first, I didn’t know what I was going to do. I felt lost without my role as Luna, but now I own a restaurant and I’m a chef. It might not be what I expected, but I’m happy. “He’d go crazy if he saw you like this,” Chloe continues. He certainly would. I don’t think he’d be able to handle knowing that his ex-wife is doing what I’m doing. But he gave up his right to dictate my life when he ended our marriage without warning. The door opens, and Emily enters. The minute she sees me behind the desk, a sympathetic look crosses her face. I know she enjoys seeing me like this, but I plaster on my best customer-service smile. “Hi Emily, how are you?” Her husband enters behind her, his gaze locked on his phone. “Good dear,” she says. She lifts her hand to adjust her bangs, a diamond tennis bracelet glinting on her wrist. Emily is outrageously wealthy. We knew each other back when we were both Luna, and I know she just comes in here to see me is all my ‘misery.’ “Oh, just the regular for us, dear,” she says. She’s taken to calling me dear now that I’m a restaurant owner and not a Luna like her. It’s always said with pity, but I don’t let it get to me. I return with their drinks moments later, placing them carefully on the table. Emily takes a sip and smiles up at me. “Who would have thought we’d end up here?” I know she really means me and not ‘we,’ but I just nod my head. “Abby, the envy of the town, now a waitress.” I don’t bother pointing out that I’m the owner and chef. “Who ever thought that after divorcing Karl, you’d end up a staff member?” She’s got that fake sympathetic smile back on her face. I know what she’s thinking. Poor Abby, abandoned by Karl. “I certainly am a little envious,” I say, glancing at her husband. A smug look crosses her face. I know that one reason, if not the main reason, she comes in here is that she enjoys seeing me like this. I’ve used that to my advantage. My former role as Karl’s wife has allowed me to turn this restaurant into a place where the elite gather. “Your waiter will be right with you,” I say with a diplomatic smile. “I’m here if you need anything.” I retreat to the counter when she waves me off. This restaurant is the first thing I’ve owned. The first thing that’s truly mine, and a few mean comments can’t take that away from me. I know she’ll be back, eager to watch my downfall. From Luna to a mere chef–but I don’t mind. The room is packed with all the wealthy people I used to run in the same circles with. I know where they like to sit, their tastes, what they usually order to eat and drink. All the qualities that made me a good Luna have made me great at my job. A man in a tailored suit walks in, his dress shoes shining in the restaurant lights. He approaches the counter and I give him a welcoming smile. “Hi, how can I help you today?” I ask. I’ve never seen him before, but he certainly looks important. “I want to book this restaurant,” he says. I glance at the books and frown. “I’m sorry, Sir, but we’re fully booked for the week. You’ll have to wait until next week.” He frowns and takes a somewhat menacing step forward. “Don’t you know who I am?” he seethes. My eyebrows go up. “My boss is Karl from the Moon River pack, one of the most powerful Alphas. Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider?” I step around the counter and smile at him, my hands clasped in front of me. “Tell Karl that I’m the boss. If he needs anything, he can make an appointment with my restaurant manager.” I nod at Olivia, who smiles. The man shakes his head. “Are you sure about this? Do you know his background?” I know only too well, but I just raise an eyebrow. “If it’s Karl, his appointment will be scheduled in three months.” I turn and walk back through the restaurant, leaving Olivia to deal with him. I push into the kitchen and breathe in the scent of cooking food, a satisfied smile overtaking my face. Maybe it wasn’t the most mature thing to do, but I couldn’t help myself. It’s time Karl gets a taste of his own medicine.

Abby “Abby, these are so good,” Leah says, humming slightly as she chews her lemon poppyseed muffin. They’re a specialty of mine. Leah, Chloe, and I have a standing afternoon tea date in the capital. Once a week, we get together to catch up on everything we’ve missed. “Thank you,” I say, blushing slightly. I have a contract to provide desserts for this restaurant and a few others. “Your desserts are getting better and better,” Chloe adds. She’s already finished her blueberry scone and has several others in a box to take home to her mother. “All thanks to you guys,” I say. “You’re my first tasters after all.” Leah wipes some stray sugar off the edge of her lip. “A role I treasure.” “You’ll never guess who came into the restaurant the other night,” I say, doing my best to sound nonchalant. “Who?” Chloe asks, pushing her hair behind her ears. “A member of Karl’s staff. He wanted to make a reservation.” Leah looks up, closing the compact mirror with a loud snap. “Tell me you didn’t say yes to him!” I laugh. “I told him we’re reserved three months out. He doesn’t stand a chance.” Chloe grins and high fives me. Across the table, Leah gives me an approving look. “Good, I’m proud of you, girlie.” “I know you guys never really liked him…” Chloe shakes her head. “I liked him at first, but he dragged you along way longer than he needed to. He never treated you right.” I sit back in my chair, trying to quell the rise of indignation. Far be it from me to suddenly stand up for Karl, but I do believe he truly loved me at one point. He couldn’t have faked everything without me picking up on it. There was a time when I meant the world to him. “You sacrificed too much for him,” Leah adds, probably noticing my skeptical look. “You think?” I ask. She nods. “Everything changed the minute you married him. You had to dress the way he wanted you to dress.” I concede that point. Karl never liked me to dress too flashy. He preferred me to dress more conservatively, so that’s what I did. At the time, I didn’t really mind. I was willing to do just about anything if I knew it would make him happy. “Don’t even get me started on the black hair,” Chloe jumps in. I push my long, golden curls off my shoulder. It took me forever to get it back to my natural color. “He loved the black hair,” I say. Leah frowns. “He was too controlling.” “Way too controlling,” Chloe agrees. I know they’re right, but I hate admitting it, even to them. It’s hard to think about all the things I changed about myself just for him. I changed so much that when I look back at pictures from that time, I don’t even recognize myself. That’s why I hide all evidence of my past life at the back of my closet, where I can pretend it doesn’t exist. “He also hated when I cooked,” I say in a small voice, kicking myself a little for how feeble I sound. I’ve always loved to cook, but Karl never understood why I wanted to spend my time in the kitchen when I could have been reading or studying instead. And, like everything else, I resisted the urge to do what I really wanted so I could do what he said. “And you’re so talented at it,” Chloe says, gesturing to the crumbs on her plate. I was a good housewife, and I did whatever I could to please him, but even that wasn’t good enough. He still left me, for no reason that I can think of. And without a good education, and my father’s businesses in jeopardy, I had no way to make a living. Nobody would hire me. To top it off, no matter how many times I asked, he never told me why he decided to leave me. To this day, I still don’t know. Just thinking about the darkness I plunged into during those months after the divorce makes something heavy sit on my chest. My wolf took it just as hard, if not harder, and she’s been in a coma ever since. “He’s trash,” Leah says, conclusively. “Total garbage,” Chloe agrees. “You gave him way too much of yourself, and he never deserved it.” “But hey, at least you got a good settlement in the divorce.” Leah twirls a strand of chocolate brown hair around her finger. “Now you have this great life you created all for yourself.” “I am happy,” I say. Chloe reaches over and squeezes my hand. “And you deserve to be.” “I wonder what he’s up to now,” Leah says, pulling out her phone. She quickly searches Karl up and then shows us a photo of him in the capital. It’s of him, looking handsome in a well-cut suit. Apparently, he’s staying in the capital for an upcoming Alpha party. “I don’t even want to know,” I say, waving the phone away. “This interview is something you have to see!” Leah practically screams. “God, he’s ridiculous!” The three of us lean forward to look at the screen. It’s Karl’s business story. The interview is with Karl’s secretary and she’s going on and on about how wonderful Karl is and how cool he is. She’s practically beaming with pride as she talks about the pack’s growth and how many new investments he’s gotten. It’s clear she admires him. “No one who meets Karl could ever forget him,” she says. “I’ve even seen lots of women cry.” The reporter asks her if she thinks Karl attracts a lot of women, and the secretary nods. “I’m well aware of his charms.” She grins. “Women pester him constantly, and it’s my job to help him handle that.” “What about you?” the reporter jokes. She flashes a confidential smile in response. Beside me, Chloe rolls her eyes, leaning away from the screen. Leah looks revolted, and I imagine I have a similar expression on my face. What a narcissist. “Geez,” Leah says, putting her phone away. “We’re going to find you someone a thousand times better than Karl.” I nod. I’ve been meaning to go on a date, but I just haven’t made the time. If I keep this up for too long, though, my estrogen levels are going to plummet. “Here,” she says, “I’m going to send you some contact information. We’re going to find you a hot guy who isn’t a controlling narcissist.” Chloe claps her hands together. “Now, won’t this be fun,” she says. There’s nothing they love more than trying to set me up with someone. They’re determined to find me someone new, so I can officially leave Karl in the past. I pull out my phone, and my eyebrows go up. Leah sent me the information of… 17 hot guys ?! Well, at least I’ll have options.

Abby “I know there’s a lot to choose from,” Leah says innocently. “So, just pick the ones you want to sleep with the most.” I give her a look, but she just plasters on that innocent smile and waits for me to look at my phone. Beside me, Chloe leans in slightly, trying to get a look at the screen. “Fine, this guy,” I say, showing them the one I picked. “There, I have a date,” “Why not meet someone else too, while you’re at it?” Leah says. “Just to save time.” I’m a bit resistant to the idea, but I eventually give in to Leah’s pestering. I message another guy to meet me later in the evening. “You guys need to help me find something to wear,” I say when everything’s been planned. They both agree, and we pay our bill. We walk around the shops until we find one that might have the kind of thing I’m looking for. Chloe and Leah help me pick out a few dresses, and I go in the back to try them on. I decide on a form-fitting black dress. It hugs my curves and cuts down in the front to show a bit of cleavage. It’s flattering on my fuller figure, and I can’t help but admire myself a bit in the mirror. It’s the kind of dress Karl never would have wanted me to wear. Leah grins when I walk out to show them. I do a little twirl, and Chloe claps. “Now that’s a dress!” she exclaims. “You look like a goddess,” Leah adds. I can feel my face warm. “Come on, stop,” I say with a laugh. “Very sexy,” Chloe continues, making me blush even harder. I wave them off and go into the back to change into my regular clothes. I buy the dress and a pair of strappy black heels to match, leaving Chloe and Leah with the promise that I’ll fill them in the minute the dates end. I meet the first guy, Luke, a few hours later. It’s already crowded when I arrive, and it takes me a minute to spot him at the bar. He’s handsome. Even better than his pictures. Usually, the men Leah sets me up with are total duds, but maybe tonight will be different. “You look gorgeous,” he says, leaning down to kiss me on the cheek. I smile. “You look pretty good yourself.” We edge slightly away from the crowd, and he leans in to talk to me. He starts telling me about his career, all the while glancing not so discreetly at my breasts. I can’t help but feel a little bored. I always had so much fun when I went out with Karl. He dragged me out onto the dance floor and was constantly making jokes. I never knew what to expect with Karl, but it was always exciting. Luke’s like every guy I’ve been out with recently–more interested in how impressive he is than in what I might have to say. Partway through the conversation, I have to cut him off. “Excuse me,” I say, stopping him mid-sentence as he drones on about his recent account at work. “I just need to run to the ladies.” “Alright, don’t take too long,” he says with a wink. I have to resist the urge to cringe as I cross the bar. I adjust my hair in the bathroom mirror, then slip into one of the open stalls. A minute later, the door opens, and Luke pushes his way into my stall. He slips his hand around me and slides it down my back, grabbing my butt. My instincts kick in and I knee him hard. He goes down with a groan. Too bad for him, the only class I aced in school was Warrior Training. I leave him like that, crumbled over in the stall with a pained look on his face. I’ve been out with a number of handsome guys in the last three years, and I haven’t gone home with any of them. They’re all the same, desperate to get into bed with me rather than get to know me. And even though I try not to, I always find myself comparing them to Karl, and they always fall short. I go back to the bar. For a moment, I have the intense feeling that I’m being watched. I look around, expecting it to be Luke, but I catch sight of him retreating out the front door. The feeling persists, and I look around at the crowd again. No one stands out to me. Not anyone I can see from this vantage point, anyway. The next guy arrives, and he walks over with a wide smile. “Hey, I’m Adam,” he says, his voice deep and gritty in a way that makes me perk up a little. I force myself to forget the presence I feel. He’s handsome too, and more my type. He has curly brown hair and deep blue eyes. He’s not as tall as the last guy, but still a few inches taller than me. I wait while he buys us both drinks, then we edge over to a table in the corner to talk. “So, what are your hobbies?” he asks, inching closer. I can feel the heavy weight of someone’s eyes on me, but I don’t turn around. “Please don’t laugh,” I say, “but it’s actually cooking.” I wait for his response, biting my lip. “I like to cook and share it with my friends,” I add. I can’t help but think about Karl and how he liked smart women, not women who can cook. Maybe Adam’s the same. The service industry is the lowest of the low in the eyes of many. He looks a little surprised and I squirm a bit. “Can I try your cooking sometime?” he asks, catching me off guard. “I’m an investor in the food business.” “Sure,” I say. “You should come by my restaurant sometime.” I tell him which one it is, and he makes a note of it on his phone. “I can’t wait.” He orders us both more drinks, and I smile. I can be quick to judge, but I’m trying to be better. It’s not fair to compare everyone to my ex, and Adam seems different from the other guys. So far, he hasn’t leered at my breasts, or tried to grope me in the bathroom. I open my mouth to ask him about his hobbies when I feel Adam’s sudden burst of intimidation. A broad figure shoves between us, cutting Adam off from me. I look up at him and take a half-step back. Karl glares down at me, his jaw tense. Clearly, his was the looming presence I felt. I should have known. Behind him, Adam edges away with a nervous look on his face. He doesn’t leave, though, which I’m grateful for. “Excuse me–” I start. “I’ve been here for hours,” he says, cutting me off. “You’ve been dating several men in a row.” His gaze rakes down my body and I grit my teeth. “And wearing such revealing clothes? When exactly did you become like this?” “What?！” I exclaim angrily.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397396”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #Werewolf #Divorce #LoveAfterLoss #regret #DaretoLove

Mable Short, the woman my fiancé cherished, and I both fell from the building at the exact same moment. My fiancé, being a doctor, rushed to save Mable first, leaving me, drenched in my own blood, to await the ambulance’s arrival. In my dying moments, I implored him not to abandon me. Frank Cullen, my fiancé, however, brusquely kicked my hand away. “Gianna! Can’t you be a bit more compassionate? Don’t you see Mable is unconscious? I’ll deal with you later for pushing her down the stairs!” But Frank never got the chance. As he turned to carry Mable away, I perished alongside the baby in my womb. My death was agonizing. I suffered from numerous fractures, with several ribs piercing my uterus, leading to a rupture and severe hemorrhaging. As I died, my blood saturated the bed. The scene was so gruesome that even the medical staff reacted in horror. Perhaps my soul lingered because my death was so unwilling. I gazed at my body in disbelief until a familiar voice caught my attention, and I followed it with curiosity. Indeed, it was Frank. In the emergency room, he hastily donned surgical garb, reassuring his lover. “Mable, hold on. I’ll operate on you now!” He then turned his attention to her surgery. His expression was more solemn than I had ever witnessed before. Only after the operation did he exhale in relief. Seeing Mable’s vital signs stabilize, Frank summoned his assistant, Max Harrison, to transfer her to a general ward for observation. Max paused, with a flicker of indecision crossing his face, which sparked Frank’s curiosity. “What is it?” Max answered, “Dr. Cullen, do you know the woman who was brought in right after Ms. Short? Just now…” Max was about to inform Frank of my demise. However, Frank swiftly cut him off and sternly explained, “I don’t know that woman, nor do I wish to know her condition.” Max nodded slightly. Hearing this, I felt a chill running through me. Frank despised me so vehemently, so how could he acknowledge me as his fiancée to outsiders? Yet, he remained unaware that I lay dead, just a wall away in another ward. I recalled how, before the accident, I had clung to his trouser leg with all my might. “Save me. I’m truly dying. “Don’t leave me. Please save me…” No one could remain indifferent to the sight of the vast pool of blood beneath me. Yet, my beloved fiancé gazed down at me with a look of disgust. “Gianna, can’t you show a shred of kindness? Can’t you see Mable is unconscious? “Isn’t it enough that you pushed her down the stairs? Now, you’re trying to stop me from saving her? Do you want her life that badly? “Gianna, I never expected you to be so malicious!” I released my grip on Frank, my bloodstained hands fumbling in my pocket for the pregnancy test report. I yearned to tell him about the baby and plead for our child’s sake that he save me. Yet, he didn’t grant me a single glance. He spoke harshly, “I’ll deal with you when I get back!” Ignoring my blood-soaked form, he lifted the unconscious Mable and turned away. By the time I retrieved the pregnancy test report, they had vanished from my sight. Tears splashed onto the report as I stared at the evidence of the small life that had begun to form inside me. I murmured, “I’m sorry, baby. Your dad doesn’t care for me, so he won’t save me, let alone you.” Upon confirming my death, the doctor reached out to my sole relative, Henry Wells, my father. When he arrived, all he found was a lifeless body. He dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his face, grappling with the incomprehensible reality that I was gone in an instant. Assisted to his feet by a nurse, he suppressed his grief and tried to contact Frank. But his calls, more than ten, were all met with disconnection.

Eventually, his calls ceased to go through. Unable to endure the disturbance, Frank blacklisted Henry. After that, Frank made his way to the hospital ward and gently took the hand of Mable, who had just awakened from her coma. “I’m so glad you’re awake. You have no idea how worried I was…” Mable’s complexion was ghostly white, betraying her frail health. Only I knew the truth that she had fallen down the stairs on purpose. Tears glistened in her eyes. “Frank, when I fell, I thought I was going to die. “Thankfully, you brought me here in time for surgery. Without you, I don’t know what would have happened.” As she spoke, she sniffled, fixing her gaze lovingly on Frank. “Frank, from now on, my life is yours.” Frank’s eyes softened at her words. He silently withdrew a pure gold bracelet from his pocket, fastening it around her wrist. “I got you a gift. I hope it brightens your spirits. “Staying positive will help you recover faster.” The bracelet was exquisitely crafted, the very one I had coveted the most. I had pleaded with him to gift it to me on my birthday, but he had refused. Yet, now, he had bought it and placed it on Mable’s wrist. Mable caressed the bracelet and wore a radiant smile. “Frank, you’re so good to me.” Her expression then clouded over. “But what about Gianna? Won’t she mind you being so sweet to me?” At the mention of my name, Frank’s face blanched. “Don’t bring up that woman! If she hadn’t pushed you down the stairs, you wouldn’t be suffering like this!” He clasped Mable’s hand firmly and sternly vowed, “Don’t you worry. I’ll make things right for you when I’m back. I promise!” He recalled that I had been taken to the same hospital by ambulance. He was burning with the desire to avenge Mable, so he was headed straight for me. Just as he stepped out of her ward, a stretcher carrying a body rolled past him. I knew that the body on the stretcher was mine, even though it was shrouded in a stark white sheet. My hand, adorned with the engagement ring, hung loosely. This was the ring Frank had bought me when he proposed eight years ago, and I had never once removed it. I couldn’t believe Frank wouldn’t recognize that ring. My soul hovered around Frank, repeatedly urging, “Frank, the body on the stretcher is me!” I yearned for Frank to acknowledge me. I wanted to see if, upon realizing it was his misjudgment that had led to the demise of me and our child, he would be so devastated he’d break down, or if he’d remain indifferent, deeming it insignificant. “Make way.” The staff urged Frank aside as they maneuvered the stretcher through. Frank frowned, his gaze flicking to my dangling hand. Then, he stepped back impatiently, allowing the stretcher to pass without incident. In the end, he failed to recognize me as his fiancée. Our eight years together now felt like a cruel joke. After the stretcher conveyed my body to the morgue, Frank approached the ward where I had been. “Where is Gianna Wells, who was brought here?” Frank inquired of the nurse upon entering. The nurse, recognizing Frank, responded swiftly, “Dr. Cullen, are you acquainted with Gianna Wells? Unfortunately, she succumbed to her grave injuries. There was nothing we could do. “Her father fainted from grief. We need to contact those close to her to handle the formalities. “It would be wonderful if you were a friend of her. Could you accompany me now…” Frank cut the nurse off, his anger flaring. “Isn’t Gianna taking things too far? She actually got people to act with her? “She’s really milking this victim role, huh? Just like Mable, she fell from a building, but Mable’s okay, right?” I had anticipated that Frank wouldn’t believe the nurse. Mable was still in one piece because Frank, the chief physician, had stepped in with his scalpel just in the nick of time. As for me, my injuries were too severe; I could only await my doom. Seeing Frank’s terrifyingly grim expression, the nurse didn’t dare say more and could only shake her head as she left. Unable to find me, Frank had no choice but to return to Mable. Mable, having learned of my possible demise, coaxed Frank, “Why don’t you go check on Gianna? What if something really happened?” Despite being the one who pushed me down the stairs, Mable twisted the truth. “I don’t think Gianna meant to push me. It must have been an accident. “If she fell, she would definitely get hurt. “You’re her fiancé, after all. You should go take a look, right?” Frank’s eyes brimmed with a tender warmth. “Mable, you’re so kind.” But his gentle expression suddenly hardened. “I know Gianna. She’s always been jealous of you, misunderstanding our relationship. “I wanted to take you to the hospital, but she tried to stop me! She’s so vicious that she must have pushed you on purpose.” Mable feigned concern. “It’s okay. I don’t blame her. I’m just worried she might be hurt…” “Impossible!” Frank declared firmly. “She loves using this trick to deceive me. She even claimed she had pneumonia when she wasn’t sick. I almost had to rush back from abroad! “She just likes to play the victim. The person I trust least is Gianna!” I tried to speak, but no sound emerged. My health had indeed not been great, and Frank was aware of this. But to spare him any added weight, especially when his career was at such a pivotal juncture, I would slip away to the hospital alone, in silence, never breathing a word of it. Sometimes, before fully recovering, I appeared a bit frail. Frank chuckled at me. “What’s this? Trying to trick me into staying by playing the pity card again?” I matched his playful tone. “Yeah, that’s right.” But even as I put on a brave face, Mable would find reasons to call Frank, feigning some ailment or another, insisting he should come to check on her. Frank was unwittingly under the thumb of the seemingly frail Mable. When I first discovered these calls, I was livid. I confronted Mable, intending to demand her true intentions face-to-face. However, before I could get a few words out, Mable burst into tears. I left, utterly bewildered by the situation. Not long after, Frank angrily confronted me. “Why did you try to irk Mable? She’s not well. As her neighbor and someone who’s practically watched her grow up, what’s wrong with me accompanying her to the hospital?” He showed me a photo on his phone. “Are you a shrew? Can’t you just talk to her nicely? Why resort to violence?” I stared at the photo in shock. There was a distinct slap mark on Mable’s face. But I hadn’t laid a finger on her! I had no defense.

Frank refused to believe me. He pointed at me and harshly warned me. “Our issues are between us. Don’t you dare bother innocent people!” I wished I could explain that I had never made things difficult for Mable. Instead, it was the seemingly innocent Mable who had mercilessly reached out and caused my downfall. I watched as they exchanged affectionate glances and embraced. Mable remained in the hospital for days under Frank’s attentive care. On the day of her discharge, Frank handled everything. After he brought Mable home, she clung to him, reluctant to let go. “Frank, I don’t want to worry my parents. “But I’m so clumsy that I can barely look after myself. Could you stay? Keep me company?” Frank reveled in her dependence. He embraced her and gently comforted her. “It’s alright. I’ll take some more time off and stay to take care of you properly.” The pain in my heart was indescribable. I never anticipated that the man I once hesitated to bother would offer himself so freely to another woman. Their tender embrace was shattered by the insistent ringing of the phone. Seeing an unfamiliar local number, Frank answered, puzzled. From the other end, Henry’s voice boomed. “You heartless bastard! How dare you do this to my daughter? You made her die with regrets!” Frank’s face shifted instantly. “Aren’t you bored? Are you in cahoots with Gianna, trying to deceive me again? “Is pretending to be sick not enough now? Has she upgraded to faking death? “Tell Gianna I won’t believe her! Even if something did happen to her, she had it coming!” Henry was incensed by Frank’s words. “You killed my daughter! You and that woman deserve to die!” Perhaps blinded by fury, Henry’s words tumbled out, somewhat jumbled and incoherent. After listening for a moment, Frank frowned and hung up. Mable approached, with curiosity in her eyes. “Who was that?” Frank shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s Gianna’s father, playing along with her act. “How could there be such a father? Willing to curse his own daughter, saying she’s dead.” Frank wore a bemused expression. “The Wells family will stop at nothing to marry me off.” Mable’s gaze dimmed. “So, are you still planning to marry Gianna?” Frank knitted his brows deeply, betraying his conflicting emotions. “We’re officially engaged, and my parents adore her. Breaking it off could get messy.” As he spoke, Frank suddenly sighed. “Actually, apart from the whole picking on you thing and the endless squabbles and cold wars over you, she’s not half bad in other respects.” Frank was right. I was with him for eight long years, engaged for six months. Beyond the constant anger and upset directed at Mable and Frank, I could be described as unconditionally tolerant of Frank. I understood his work kept him busy, so even when neglected, I’d suppress my frustration and remain his steadfast support. When his parents fell ill, I was the one who spared no expense or effort in caring for them. Yet, I feared Frank’s current indecision wasn’t born out of love for me. I worried he simply saw me as a suitable match for marriage. As Frank spoke of this, Mable’s expression grew increasingly sour. Just as she was about to press Frank for answers, he received a call from his father, John Cullen. “Frank, you’re absolutely ridiculous! How could I have fathered a son like you!” John berated Frank. “Gianna has suffered a tremendous tragedy, and you’re just going to ignore it?” Frank was momentarily stunned before offering a nonchalant smile. “Dad, don’t let Gianna pull the wool over my eyes with you,” he implored. John was so furious he was rendered speechless. “Who would risk someone’s life just to cause a scene? “Don’t you realize Gianna is dead? Your wife-to-be, Gianna, is gone!”

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I unexpectedly ran into my ex-girlfriend, and old feelings flared up again. She had divorced her husband for me, but she had hidden a shocking secret. Her child was mine. But soon, I realized things were not so simple. As I left the office, I was chatting with a boss named Rodger Navarro about some machine issues today. I owned these factories and had come to check on the equipment. Suddenly, we turned a corner and encountered a woman. From a distance, I thought she looked familiar. She was being scolded by a manager, nodding submissively. She looked pitiful and timid. “I’m sorry, manager, I’ll clean up right away.” “You’re too slow; even a monkey could do better than you.” I recognized her as my ex-girlfriend, Sally Garcia. The manager’s tirade had left her dazed, and she turned just in time to bump into my arms. More accurately, I had caught her. Sally looked up slightly, her eyes glistening with tears as if she had suffered a great injustice. She was a country girl with a stunning figure. Her beauty was delicate and striking. Even in her cleaning uniform, her perfect shape was accentuated. “I’m so sorry…” Sally instinctively bowed her head in apology, as polite and humble as she had been with the manager. The thought that she might have forgotten me unsettled me; after all, we shared so many beautiful memories. The manager nearby started to get riled up again. Seeing his angry demeanor annoyed me. “She did nothing wrong; don’t take it out on her,” I warned softly. “Keep this up, and you won’t be working here anymore.” He jumped at my words, hurriedly backing off, afraid to say more. I hadn’t forgotten his earlier attitude towards Sally and silently noted his badge number, planning to transfer him later. Turning to Sally, I asked quietly, “You’re not scared, are you?” Sally shook her head, looking at me timidly. “You don’t remember me? I’m Barnard Moore,” I couldn’t help but introduce myself. Finally, recognition dawned on Sally. “Barnard, is it really you?” Seeing Rodger’s curious expression beside us, I refrained from saying more and simply took her hand to leave. Sally and I had met in the countryside. When I first knew her, I was just an appliance repairman. I often saw her washing clothes by the river. Among the village women, she was the most beautiful and often faced teasing and harassment. Once, after finishing a repair, I spotted her being blocked by someone and rushed over. From a distance, I recognized the man as Denny Boyd from the neighboring village. He was leering at her, looking like he intended to make a move. I yelled out, “Mr. Benton!” Coyle Benton was a respected elder in the village; even the local toughs held him in awe. Upon hearing someone approach, Denny spat and scowled, leaving in a huff. When I reached Sally, I found her on the ground, looking utterly helpless. Her clothes had loosened, revealing her full chest, contrasting sharply with her slender waist, causing my heart to race. I bent down and caught a whiff of her faint, sweet fragrance. Sally lunged into my arms. Holding her, I felt an instant reaction. From that day on, I often stayed close to protect her. She would smile at me, trusting me completely. I shattered the stereotypes others had of her, realizing she was not only enchanting but also a gentle and innocent girl. We quickly fell in love. Later, due to family reasons, I left my hometown and the woman I loved. I eventually heard she had gotten married, and I started my own family. Now, she should be in her thirties, yet she looked just like a girl. Her figure was even more alluring than in her youth, radiating the charm of a mature woman. I pulled her into my office, lowering the blinds to shield us from prying eyes. Sally looked down, a flush creeping onto her cheeks, though I couldn’t tell if it was from shyness or something else. “How have you been all these years?” Having dated her, I naturally cared about her well-being. I had always felt guilty for leaving her. “Barnard, are you really concerned about me?” Sally looked up, her eyes misty with tears. I thought, could it be that she hadn’t been happy all this time? A flicker of hope crossed my mind.

I reached out to wipe the tears from the corner of her eye. “Of course I care about you.” A sudden knock at the door interrupted our conversation. Sally jumped back, pushing me away. I let go of her hand, her soft, smooth skin sparking romantic thoughts that reminded me of how she once made me feel. That night, I tossed and turned in bed, my heart ablaze. In my youth, I was quite the charmer, adept at winning over girls. During that time, Sally and I had shared a whirlwind of wild and sweet moments. When we sneaked off to the fields, she hesitated at first but eventually went along with my plans. Her hand would rest gently on my neck, and though she looked slightly upset, she still let me take the lead. I could vividly recall her enchanting figure in the cornfield and her tender, youthful body. It was my first sexual experience, and just thinking about it kept me awake. Eventually, I fell asleep but dreamt of her. In my dream, Sally leaped into my arms, full of affection. We laughed and played, and I was lost in her warmth. Then, I dreamt of her being chased by a crowd. Cornered and desperate, she came to my door, begging for help. In the dream, her eyes were frantic, like a trapped rabbit. I shut the door and turned to pin her beneath me. She was too nervous to speak but didn’t resist. Her soft arms draped over my shoulders, and she whispered, “Barnard.” Even after waking, the dream lingered in my mind. It had been a long time since I felt this way. I got up and made a call to transfer Sally to a position closer to my office. I arranged for her to have a lighter workload so she could be nearer to me. The next day, I watched my plans unfold with satisfaction, yet Sally still appeared timid in front of me. Whenever I glanced up, I caught sight of her graceful figure. It seemed she sensed my feelings, keeping her head down in shyness. Her ears flushed red as she busily wiped the desk. I chuckled softly, thinking, “She’s still so easily flustered, just like a girl.” As she passed by, I tugged at her hand, and she gasped, falling into my embrace. Her body was still that delicate and soft, stirring my heart. Sally was always neat. Her clothes were immaculately clean, carrying a light scent of lavender. Even her neck turned pink, resembling rose petals. She tried to push me away but couldn’t budge. Her slender, pale neck swayed before me. “Barnard, don’t do this. It’s not right.” “What’s not right?” I spoke brazenly, though I kept my actions in check. I couldn’t help but reminisce about my youthful audacity. In her younger days, Sally never rejected me, and I wouldn’t let her say the things I didn’t want to hear. I loved to make her blush, her clothes half undone, leaving her speechless. Now, her curvaceous body swayed in front of me, igniting my desire. Her rounded hips brushed against my thigh, but I still hesitated to make a move. Gently, I caressed her thigh and asked, “How about dinner with me tonight?” “I need to go home and cook for Alick tonight.” I didn’t ask who Alick was; after all, I already knew her story. After her marriage, she had a child named Alexander Guzman, who was very well-behaved. “Have you forgotten our past?” I placed her hand against my face. “I haven’t forgotten you, Sally. It’s rare for us to…” “The past is the past,” Sally’s voice dropped, seemingly recalling unpleasant memories.

“Alright, alright, I was just joking. But I’d like to ask if you could have dinner with me.” I quickly released her, not daring to provoke her any further. After all, I was the one who had wronged her first by leaving her behind in the countryside. She agreed to my request. During dinner, she remained quiet, her demeanor restrained and polite, as if afraid I might make another move. I was interested in her, but I didn’t want to overstep her boundaries. I had a plan in mind, so I took her to a high-end restaurant. As expected, Sally sat there looking helpless, fiddling with her napkin, unsure of what to do. I wrapped my arm around her and took her hand, guiding her on how to handle the napkin. As I explained, I leaned my head gently against hers, savoring her warmth. At that moment, she seemed to forget the distance between us, her eyes filled with admiration as they had been in our youth. Even my ex-wife had never given me such a feeling. Sally appeared to recall her past feelings for me. We locked eyes, slowly drowning in affection. The space between us faded away. I caressed her soft shoulder, my other hand moving to hold her securely. I leaned down to kiss her, giving her no chance to escape. Good times always seemed fleeting. Before we could finish the meal, she received a phone call and rushed to leave. “Can you come out with me tomorrow since it’s the weekend?” I pulled her hand insistently, ignoring the angry shouts on the other end of the line. I already knew she had a child and a husband, yet jealousy gnawed at me. She looked down, caught in a rare conflict. Seeing her like this, I understood that she still held feelings for me. Watching her leave made me feel disappointed. Before she left, I gifted her several items. She hesitated to return them, but I noticed the surprise and shyness in her eyes when she received the gifts. I thought to myself, “Take it slow. As a hunter, you must have patience.” To my surprise, the next day at the office, I didn’t see her. The manager told me she had taken a leave of absence. I felt confused. As soon as I turned away, I overheard them gossiping. “Sally has it tough. Her husband is incompetent and has a bad temper. What a shame.” Those words unsettled me, and I thought, “Is she in trouble?” I tracked down Sally’s address from the manager and drove over. After a long journey, I arrived at an old, secluded house. People passed by quickly, making me feel inexplicably anxious. Today, I had dressed down. I didn’t drive my car in, calmly walking into the building. Eventually, I found her home. Sally stood at the door, dressed simply yet exuding a certain elegance. She was adjusting a boy’s clothes and smiling as he left. When she turned to see me, she froze. “Barnard, what are you doing here?” Once she said that she seemed a bit flustered, quickly lowering her gaze. Her hands trembled, fidgeting nervously in front of her. I didn’t care if anyone saw; I quickly walked over, my gaze intense as I looked at her. “Why didn’t you go to work? Is it because you didn’t want to see me?” No matter how many women a man has, there’s always something different about his first love. Besides, I was now older, and suddenly, there she was before me. She was still as beautiful as ever, her movements still reminiscent of a young girl. Now, she carried a mature allure. I admitted to myself that I couldn’t let her go. I never wanted her to be far from me again. My feelings for her were strong. Even if I was a bit upset, seeing her in this shy state made me soften my voice, afraid of scaring her. “Barnard, I… I didn’t…” Sally stepped back slightly, her fingers anxiously tugging at her apron. Suddenly, someone appeared behind her. “Sally, who’s this?” The man was scruffy, yawning as he looked at me with a hint of malice. Sally tensed even more. I spoke up. “I’m Sally’s boss from the factory. I wanted to ask why she wasn’t at work.” I wasn’t particularly polite. I knew that for someone like him, status carried weight. Sure enough, he instantly shifted to a more courteous demeanor, speaking in a flattering tone. “You’re the owner of that factory nearby? Nice to meet you. The big boss has a different presence, doesn’t he?”

He chattered incessantly. I merely responded with half-hearted replies, barely looking at him. After all, if it weren’t for Sally, he wouldn’t even be worthy of speaking to me. I glanced at Sally, who was pouring water nearby. She was dressed simply today, but that only accentuated her curves, radiating the allure of a mature woman. Her skin was delicate, and her figure was stunning, swaying with her every movement. It seemed that her dress was slightly snug in the front. I realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. The thought quickened my heartbeat, and images of Sally beneath me from last night’s dream flooded my mind. Sally’s soft waist sank onto the couch as she sat next to me. Her anxious eyes darted around as if afraid someone would discover what we had done. We had indeed crossed a line. I reached under the table and grasped her hand. Sally froze, looking at me with a pleading expression. I placed her hand on my knee. Her hands felt rough, marked by calluses, no longer as soft as they had been in our youth. A pang of tenderness and guilt washed over me. When it was time for dinner, her husband, Jackson Guzman, warmly invited me to stay, so I did. As we ate, Jackson brought out some wine. I was a seasoned drinker, and before long, I had him drunk, his head resting on the table as he mumbled incoherently. “I missed you after just one day. Didn’t you miss me?” I confidently pulled Sally onto my lap. Her long dress revealed her pale, shapely legs and her ample bosom stretched the fabric to its limits. It was an irresistible sight. Embracing her with her husband just a few feet away sent a thrill through me. I couldn’t help but get closer, feeling her softness and the faint scent of her skin. Sally finally pushed me away. She was breathless, tears glistening in her eyes as she glanced nervously at Jackson, who lay passed out. “Please don’t do this.” Seeing her like that stirred something within me. I took a few swigs from the wine bottle, losing the restraint I had earlier. Sally gently grasped my hand, her voice laced with concern. “You shouldn’t drink so much; it’s not good for you.” “Do you still care about me? Why are you lying to me?” She shyly lowered her head, falling silent. She leaned against me, her tender breasts brushed against my body. I could no longer hold back. I swept her into the bedroom and pressed her against the door. Having had a bit to drink, my face felt flushed, yet I asked her, “Will you be with me?” Her hands explored my face, tenderly caressing my forehead and lips. Then, she leaned up to kiss me. On the bed, she was as captivating as ever. Her expression held a mix of shyness and allure, reminding me of the beauty of first love. Now, she possessed a mature charm that left me craving more. Outside, Jackson lay in a drunken stupor, while inside, we burned with passion. We lost ourselves in each other multiple times. If I weren’t afraid of being caught, I would have held her even longer. As I prepared to leave, I felt reluctant. The flush on Sally’s face had yet to fade, and beads of sweat glistened on her neck, making her skin appear even more radiant. Her pink dress was wrinkled from my hands, emphasizing her full breasts, and it was damp in places. Sally gazed at me softly, her eyes filled with tenderness. I couldn’t resist taking a deep breath as we shared a reluctant kiss before I hurriedly left her home. For several days, I continued to pull her into my playful escapades. We intertwined in my office or at motels. Occasionally, I couldn’t help but pick her up. We reminisced about our youthful secret encounters in the woods, where we had reveled in nature’s fragrant embrace. Now, our escapades were even more reckless. Recently, though, Sally seemed to withdraw, hesitant to get too close. I suspected it was because of her fear of being discovered by her husband. Though I understood her concerns, the feeling frustrated me. One day, she surprisingly suggested I come to her house.

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Everyone dreamt of having a companion in their old age. But the person who would have grown old with me had long since passed away, and here I was, at seventy. My body was still spry. I could hike two mountains back-to-back without breaking a sweat. My mindset was youthful, too; I spent my days scrolling through my phone at home. Encouraged by the beauty industry and some of those younger ladies, I decided to get some work done. When I woke up, I felt like I’d turned back the clock thirty years. On the day I was discharged, my three sons came to pick me up. My eldest, Ryan Fleming, couldn’t stop praising me. My middle son, Steve Fleming, gave me a thumbs-up, his pride evident. And then there was my youngest, Barry Fleming, daringly teasing me, “Mom, you look younger than I do now!” Hearing that made my heart swell with joy. I caught a glimpse of my youthful face in the car window’s reflection and couldn’t help but clap my hands in delight. But while my sons knew about my transformation, my old friends had no idea. It took several weeks of mental preparation and letting my new look settle before I felt ready to face the world again. The moment I stepped out into the spotlight was on my seventieth birthday, and that was when my nightmare began. Determined to keep my spirited attitude and embrace activities that only the young would dare to try, I decided to shake things up. I abandoned the usual dinner gatherings and threw a party at my house, inviting friends and family to celebrate. On the day of the party, my sons seemed to have coordinated their efforts, each bringing along their wives or partners. The emcee read heartfelt messages, champagne flowed freely, and the atmosphere was electric. The number of people continued to rise, and among them, more and more middle-aged single men were appearing, providing ample opportunities for me to socialize. As I sat in the guest of honor’s seat, a parade of handsome and not-so-handsome men, tall and short, passed by me. I thought surely I’d find someone who caught my eye. But then the lights flickered. Ryan’s wife, Cailey Pratt, leaned against the couch, her glass of wine in hand, her gaze hazy and unfocused. That look in her eyes was all too familiar—it reminded me of how I used to look at my late husband. But then, to my shock, Cailey suddenly said to my son, looking at me. “Ryan, I don’t love you anymore.” “What?” Ryan exclaimed, stunned. “I don’t love you anymore.” Ryan gripped his wine glass tightly, and I widened my eyes in disbelief. Though most of the guests were family, I silently wished, “Let’s pretend we didn’t hear that.” Alanis Carell, my middle son’s wife, who’d never gotten along with Cailey, seized the moment. “Cailey, do you even realize what you just said?” I chimed in, “Cailey, you…” But Cailey cut me off, her eyes sparkling with affection as she stood in front of me. “Mom, you know what? I love you. “And I just want to…” Ignoring Alanis, Cailey continued, “Mom, I want to hug you! I love you so much…” I awkwardly smiled and opened my arms, embracing Cailey like a gentleman. I could feel her hugging me tighter and tighter, to the point where it felt like my ribs were about to snap. I had to twist away, and now my back was killing me. “Ow, Cailey, that’s enough!” I winced, trying to pry her off me. But Cailey wouldn’t let go. To everyone else, it looked like a heartfelt reunion between old friends. I waved my hand, trying to rouse my dazed son. “Ryan, Cailey’s drunk! Shouldn’t you take her home to rest?” Ryan nodded, a mix of frustration and confusion on his face, and he hoisted Cailey over his shoulder. As they stumbled away, I felt my face burn with embarrassment while the guests looked on in bewilderment. Their expressions were a mix of shock and disbelief, lingering until the party finally came to an end. I sat there like a zombie, unable to wrap my head around the fact that my son’s wife could harbor such twisted feelings toward me, feelings that bordered on obsession. During this surreal moment, some well-meaning souls even patted my shoulder, offering words of encouragement. “Hang in there,” they said, trying to offer support.

After the party wrapped up and my sons had taken their families home, I found myself alone, feeling both helpless and exasperated as I cleaned up the house. My mind drifted back to Cailey’s intense gaze—the way it felt like she wanted to devour me whole. The rich aroma of red wine still lingered in the glass, and I was too exhausted to resist. I downed it in one gulp. “What the hell was that all about?” I muttered, shaking my head. If I had known my charm was still alive and kicking, I might have skipped the plastic surgery. But then again, who wouldn’t want to feel thirty years younger? The next morning, I was jolted awake by a nightmare—Cailey’s loving gaze haunting me in my sleep. I never expected such a thing to make me feel so nauseous, and I ended up feeling under the weather for several days. With Alanis busy making a living and Barry still single, it fell on Cailey to take care of me. She cooked, cleaned, and even tackled the laundry. While this was nothing new, it felt more awkward than ever. One day, Cailey appeared with a bowl of oatmeal, a spoon poised in front of my mouth, gently blowing on it. Cailey smiled at me, “Mom, it’s time to eat.” Her tone was soft, and to anyone watching, we looked like a picture-perfect pair. But her words sent a chill down my spine, like a haunting melody I couldn’t escape. I had no choice but to oblige as she cheerfully fed me the lukewarm oatmeal. Cailey said, her enthusiasm bubbling over, “Once you’re feeling better, I’ll take you to the park. “There’s a new batch of roses, and I remember they’re your favorite.” Before I could even form a complete response, she was off, her hips swaying in a way that could make a willow tree envious. With Ryan often buried in work, sometimes late into the night, I worried about any rifts forming between them. So, I decided to pay them a visit. I knocked on their door and called out, “Ryan, guess who’s here? Your mom!” Inside, Ryan was busy cooking while Cailey stood beside him, her brow furrowed. “Am I not welcome? Why is everyone so quiet?” I asked, sensing the tension. Ryan glanced at me, but Cailey’s expression was one of distress. “What’s wrong? Did you two have a fight?” I asked, trying to soothe the situation as I nudged Ryan away from the stove. The flames were roaring, and as I cracked an egg into the pan, I teased, “You didn’t bully Cailey again, did you?” Ryan shook his head, exasperated. “Me? Bully her? Come on, Mom! Cailey’s got a mouth on her that could take down a lion.” He had a point. Cailey was the only daughter, spoiled by her parents. When she married into our family, she even tried to negotiate an extra 30 thousand dollars in gift money for marriage. I wasn’t having it and settled on 15 thousand dollars. Their relationship had been surprisingly harmonious. Even now, at nearly forty, Cailey hadn’t gotten pregnant, but they had never fought over infidelity. But the other night, everything changed when Cailey made that outrageous declaration. She had said she loved me! And that she wanted to hug me! At Ryan’s words, Cailey’s eyes filled with tears as she shook her head. “No, Mom, I just want to be by your side. Ryan’s the one who’s been mean to me.” I said, “Why would he hit you?” “Because… because…” She stammered, unable to give a clear answer. My son, though big and burly, had never had a parent-teacher meeting over a fight in his life. Ryan rolled his eyes, nearly passing out, and shouted, “I didn’t hit her. She wants a divorce.” “Divorce?” I quickly covered Ryan’s mouth, hissing, “Son, don’t go spreading nonsense!” Up until now, their family had always been calm, never even a raised voice. But their situation hadn’t changed, and Cailey’s eyes still glowed with affection for me. With no other option, I decided to feign anger and said, “If this is about me, I’ll stay out of your lives from now on.” I lifted my skirt and turned to leave. Ryan, knowing me well, understood I was just trying to scare them and that I wouldn’t actually leave. But Cailey wasn’t the same. She suddenly burst into tears upon hearing my words, rushed over, and clung to me. “Please don’t go, Mom!” Cailey cried, sobbing uncontrollably. At my age, I thought I could still rely on my seniority to handle this situation, but it seemed not to be enough. They were indeed heading for a divorce, which meant dividing assets and a mandatory one-month cooling-off period.

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The day I was diagnosed with a brain tumor, I saw my wife outside the maternity ward at the hospital. My heart skipped a beat with excitement. I wanted to rush over and ask if she was pregnant with our child. But just as I got to my feet, I saw her run toward another man. Seeing how intimate they were, I lowered my eyes and let out a sneer. I never would have guessed that all those times she said she was too busy with work to come home, she was actually preparing to have someone else’s baby. It was midnight. I sat on the couch, smoking one cigarette after another. The ashtray on the coffee table was overflowing with butts, and I let out a deep sigh. I clutched my phone, hesitating for a long time, scrolling back and forth through my contacts until I finally stopped on my wife’s name, Lizbeth Webster. I gritted my teeth and was just about to dial her number when the door suddenly swung open. I stubbed out my cigarette and stood up from the couch. I turned around and saw two people standing in the doorway. When I saw the man supporting Lizbeth, my eyes widened in surprise. It was the same man I’d seen with her at the hospital before. I stood there, rooted to the spot as if paralyzed. Lizbeth was drunk, her cheeks flushed, her clothes disheveled. She leaned against the man for support. That man’s face was a bit red. It looked like he’d had a fair amount to drink, too. He seemed surprised to see me home but still helped Lizbeth over to the couch, laying her down gently. “Mr. Webster, you’re home. Lizbeth said no one was here, so I brought her up,” he explained. “She had a bit too much to drink at a business dinner. If it’s not too much trouble, could you make her something warm to drink?” He turned toward the door, giving me a nod. “Goodbye, Mr. Webster.” I grabbed Lizbeth’s car keys from her bag and caught up to him, offering him a smile. “I noticed you’ve been drinking too. Let me drive you home.” He looked down. With only the porch light on, I couldn’t make out his expression. I thought he might come up with some excuse to refuse, but he nodded and agreed. I drove while he sat in the passenger seat. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, and he happened to look back at me. “Mr. Webster, when are you and Lizbeth planning to have kids?” Hearing his question, I lowered my head, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “That’s up to Lizbeth. I don’t want to pressure her. We’ll just let things happen naturally.” He turned his head to look out the window and said thoughtfully, “Letting things happen naturally. That’s good.” After dropping him off, I leaned back in the driver’s seat, staring at the lit window across the street, a restless feeling churning inside me. I remembered there was a pack of cigarettes hidden in the glove compartment, something I’d stashed away secretly. Lizbeth didn’t like me smoking, so whenever we went out together, I never brought any. However, I had a strong craving, so I’d often hide a pack in the car and sneak a smoke when she wasn’t around. I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened the glove compartment. A piece of A4 paper slipped out. I bent down to pick it up, and when I saw what was on it, a sharp pain shot through my head. I pressed a hand to my temple, my stomach churning violently. I pushed open the car door and stumbled out, crouching by the roadside, retching into the bushes. I dry-heaved for a long time, but only a little bit of stomach acid came out. That was when I remembered that I’d only eaten breakfast today. I wiped my mouth, wearing a bitter smile. I felt around in my pockets, but they were empty. Thinking about what was on that A4 paper, I clenched my fists. It was Lizbeth’s seven-week ultrasound scan. I hadn’t expected their baby to be that far along already.

Lizbeth and I first met back in college. At that time, I was quite the figure on campus, coming from a wealthy family, serving as the vice president of the student council, and being the captain of the basketball team. Plenty of girls were interested in me, and Lizbeth was one of them. Initially, I had no intention of getting into a relationship. I wanted to focus on my studies and personal interests, and after graduation, I planned to establish my career first. I knew my family would arrange a suitable marriage for me. I figured I’d just pick someone who seemed decent enough to marry. Because of this, I turned down a dozen girls, including Lizbeth. But she seemed completely captivated by me, persistently pursuing me for three years. During our senior year internship, Lizbeth and I unexpectedly ended up at the same company. It was a prestigious firm with incredibly high standards for even its interns. I hadn’t expected Lizbeth to make it in as well. That was the first time I really took notice of her. And it was also the first time I got to know her deeply. I discovered that she was incredibly disciplined. She was a diligent and smart girl. During our more than six months interning together, she never showed any signs of interest or confessed to me again. I thought she might have realized that we were unlikely to be together, so she threw herself entirely into her work. I did the same, pouring all my time into my tasks, hoping to secure a permanent position with the company before graduation. By the end of the first semester of our senior year, I didn’t get an offer from the company. But Lizbeth did. The company recognized her abilities. The boss admired her work so much that she was given a formal contract even before she graduated. That was the first time I felt the sting of failure. That sense of defeat made the second semester of my senior year particularly hard to endure. I couldn’t stand it. I didn’t want to leave that company, and I didn’t want to be outdone by Lizbeth. So, the year I graduated, I returned to the company with my resume. After several rounds of interviews, I finally made it to the last stage. During that interview, I saw Lizbeth again. She was so stunning that I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She sat in the middle of the company executives and smiled at me. “You’re so outstanding. Are you sure you want to join our company?” Looking into Lizbeth’s bright eyes, my heart raced. I hesitated for a moment, then clenched my fists and nodded. “I truly believe in the company’s values…” I said a lot, and by the end, I felt so nervous that my hands and feet were ice-cold. When I finished speaking, I glanced at Lizbeth. After a brief discussion with the other executives, they all stood up, leaving just Lizbeth and me in the conference room. Lizbeth got up and walked toward me with a smile. She bent down close to my ear and whispered, “I checked. This company allows office romances.” I stared at her in surprise. She raised an eyebrow, patted me on the shoulder, and gave me a playful smile. “On behalf of the HR department, welcome aboard.” From that day on, Lizbeth and I started a flirtatious relationship. Two years later, we officially got together, but Lizbeth planned to resign. I asked her why, confused. She said she wanted to have her own career, to make her mark in this city, and to rise above the rest. Seeing the determination in her eyes, I resigned from the job I loved and joined her in starting a business. We were fairly lucky. In about two years, we had our own company. Although it wasn’t very big, we had achieved financial freedom. That New Year’s Day, I proposed to Lizbeth. By the end of the following year, we were married. Now, we’d been married for four years. We’d been through the toughest times together. Life had been getting better and better, but then I was diagnosed with a brain tumor. I hadn’t figured out how to tell Lizbeth about this bad news, and she’d given me such a “surprise.” I couldn’t understand why she, the one who had pursued me in the first place, would betray our marriage in the most humiliating way.

By the time I got home, it was already past midnight. Lizbeth was lying on the sofa, tossing and turning in her sleep. Her short skirt had ridden up, exposing her legs. I sighed helplessly, grabbed a blanket, and draped it over her. Leaning down, I gazed at her heavily made-up face and shook my head. I couldn’t recall when she started favoring such bold makeup. Maybe it was the day I stepped down from the company, and she became the fierce CEO. She was always so strong-willed, needing to excel at everything, while I was more laid-back, preferring to go with the flow. Our biggest argument happened about a year and a half ago. The company was expanding rapidly. I suggested we slow down and take steady steps to avoid any mistakes that could lead to losses. But she thought I was too cautious, lacking in vision. She believed the company’s smooth sailing wasn’t just luck but a result of her relentless efforts. She even said she knew what she was doing and didn’t need me dictating how she should run things. That argument dragged on for a long time, and in the end, she even mentioned divorce. It was the harshest thing she’d ever said since we got married. After that fight, I gradually withdrew from the company, no longer involving myself in its affairs. To me, a peaceful home was more important than having a say in the company. Lizbeth preferred being in charge, so I stepped back and took on the role of her strongest support. After leaving the company, I noticed Lizbeth becoming increasingly busy, so much so that sometimes she wouldn’t come home for a month. I felt like a neglected wife locked away, waiting day after day for her return. Perhaps that’s when she changed. Maybe she had already stopped being faithful to our marriage back then. “Vince, don’t leave. Let’s have another drink,” Lizbeth mumbled, rolling over and reaching out toward me. Seeing her half-leaning out, trying to grab hold of me while calling out another man’s name, I took a step back. I yanked the blanket off her. I figured she wouldn’t need me covering her with a blanket anymore. I smoked in the bedroom all night long. I thought about it the whole night but couldn’t figure out how things had come to this. I pressed my throbbing head and stubbed out the cigarette on the windowsill. At dawn, I heard hurried footsteps from the living room, followed by the sound of the bedroom door being pushed open. Lizbeth, still in last night’s clothes, stood in the doorway, her brows furrowed in disgust. “Laurence, how many times have I told you? No smoking in the bedroom. Don’t you know I hate the smell of smoke? “And you left the cigarette butts on the windowsill? Do we not have an ashtray in this house? What’s happened to you? Where’s the clean and considerate man who never pissed me off?” Lizbeth was trembling with anger, her face twisted in frustration. I stood up and faced her. My head pounded, my stomach felt uneasy, and I was almost on the verge of throwing up. I clenched my fists and looked at Lizbeth. “I went to the hospital yesterday.” Lizbeth stared at me impatiently. “Don’t change the subject. I’m talking about why you never listen to me. Why do you always do the things I hate? When will you finally quit smoking?” “The doctor said my health isn’t looking good. I need more rest. I need to keep a calm mind. I need to…” Lizbeth cut me off with a sneer. “You need more rest? “Laurence, I’ve been supporting you for the past year and a half. You’ve done nothing but laze around at home like some rich lady. What right do you have to say you need more rest? “I’m warning you, if you smoke in the house again, I won’t come back.” She stormed over to the wardrobe, yanked out a couple of clothes, and didn’t even bother to look at me again. I lowered my eyes and let out a bitter chuckle. I thought to myself, “So, it’s really that obvious when someone stops loving you.” The contempt on Lizbeth’s face was obvious. With the clothes in her hands, she headed toward the door. I stood where I was and called out to her. “Let’s get a divorce.”

Lizbeth turned around in surprise, a mocking smile spreading across her face. “Laurence, are you out of your mind? Divorce? Don’t tell me you’re out of money and looking to get a piece of my assets through divorce. “I’m telling you right now, the company is in a critical growth phase and needs substantial funding. If you think you can get a divorce now, forget it. “If you’re really that bored, why don’t you go on a trip or something? It’ll save you from sitting around the house dreaming up nonsense.” Lizbeth stormed out, her footsteps echoing as she gathered her things outside. Hearing the sound, I rubbed my cheeks in frustration. I clenched my fist and slammed it onto the bed. I had only wanted to end our marriage, but to her, I was just some scoundrel trying to grab her wealth through divorce. I thought, “Well, if that is what she thought, then I’ll play along. The company was built by both Lizbeth and me through our combined efforts. There’s no reason I should suffer alone in silence while she and her new lover enjoy a life of luxury.” I picked up my phone and called my lawyer friend, Matthew Deleon. “Matthew, I need some legal advice.” After hanging up, a sharp pain shot through my head. I raised my hand and tapped my skull, forcing myself to stand up from the bed. When I was a kid, my dad always told me that as long as my will was strong enough, nothing could bring me down. This tumor in my head… It was just an inconvenience. It gave me headaches and soured my mood. However, I believed that as long as I held on tight to my willpower, I could pull through. Leaning against the wardrobe, I reached out for a shirt. I stared at the shirts hanging in the closet, but suddenly my vision blurred. I couldn’t even make out their shapes. I rubbed my eyes, but the fog didn’t lift. Frowning in frustration, I grabbed at whatever shirt I could touch. Just as I got hold of a sleeve, everything went black, and I lost consciousness. When I opened my eyes again, the world outside was shrouded in darkness. Lying there, I stared up at the ceiling and fumbled for my phone beside me. Bringing the screen close to my eyes, I noticed several missed calls from Matthew. I frowned. Just as I was about to call him back, Lizbeth’s name flashed on the screen. I squinted to make sure it was really her before finally picking up. “Laurence, I don’t care what crazy thing you want to do, but don’t let your friends keep calling me. “I’ve had a long enough day at work as it is. I don’t have the time, nor the obligation, to help your friends track you down. “There’s a lot going on at the company this month, so I’m not coming home. And when I do come back, I expect you to have quit smoking.” Lizbeth hung up before I could get a word out. I opened my mouth, but no sound came. I rubbed my eyes hard, but my vision remained as blurry as ever. The doctor had warned me that the tumor in my brain was in a terrible spot. It was pressing on both my optic and motor nerves. In the future, I might not only lose my sight but also end up in a wheelchair, completely disabled. Thinking about this, I immediately dialed Matthew’s number. I needed to sort out the financial matters with Lizbeth as quickly as possible. I wanted to be at my best when I divorced her.

My husband gave away our newborn son to repay a war buddy who once saved his life. He lied to me, saying our child had died. Years later, I accidentally learned our son was alive. When I confronted my husband, he simply said, “I owed him this.” I tried to find our child, but my husband blocked every attempt. Consumed by grief and regret over losing my son, I eventually died of a broken heart. Incredibly, I woke up again. Back on the day I gave birth. “You like giving away children? Then you can die childless!” ***** A sharp pain jolted me awake. My body reacted before my mind could catch up, and I cried out. I tried to move, but my swollen belly pinned me down. “What’s wrong? Is it time?” a voice asked urgently. The door swung open as a man strode in, carrying two lunch boxes in one hand. He was tall and muscular, with striking features, sharp eyebrows and piercing eyes. His military uniform exuded an air of authority. Every inch of him radiated the vigor of youth. This was my husband, Tyler Davenport. But how had he become so young? Confused, I stared at Tyler, unable to look away. Before I could make sense of it, he was at my bedside, his face etched with worry and urgency. In one swift motion, he scooped me up from the bed. The fresh scent of soap filled my nostrils as his concerned voice, tinged with severity, reached my ears. “Your water broke and you didn’t call anyone? Don’t you know how dangerous that is? You could’ve risked both your lives!” As we passed through the living room, my eyes caught the calendar on the wall. My heart raced as my fingers unconsciously gripped the rough fabric. I had been reborn, back to the day I gave birth. In my past life, I had labored for over two hours to bring this child into the world. Tyler immediately gave the baby to his war buddy. He lied to me, saying our child was too weak and didn’t survive. I believed him, blaming myself for being unable to keep our baby alive. Later, I discovered the truth by chance, but when I tried to get my child back, Tyler blocked me at every turn. When I confronted him, his face was cold, his words matter-of-fact. “George lost his chance to be a father while saving my life. I owe him this child. “He’ll never have another kid, but we can have plenty more. Gwen, forget about that baby. It’s better for everyone if we just pretend it didn’t make it.” “It’s better for everyone?” I scoffed inwardly. “It’s better for you!” That was my child, carried for nine months and born through my pain. It was not some gift to repay his kindness! I had a huge fight with Tyler and set out to find my baby. But Tyler’s influence grew. His power became almost limitless. He always managed to cut off any leads I found. My efforts were in vain. Living with the pain and regret of losing my child, I died of a broken heart before I even hit 45. Then, by some miracle, I got a second chance at life. This time, I swore, no one would take my baby from me! The joy of rebirth overwhelmed me. My heart raced, and my breathing quickened. No, I couldn’t let Tyler be the only one with me when I gave birth. I was due any day now. “Wait,” I said through gritted teeth, fighting the pain. “Send a telegram to my family. Ask my mother to come take care of me. This is my first child. I’m terrified.” I tilted my head back, catching only the sharp line of Tyler’s jaw. He chuckled softly, looking down at me. “It’s harvest season. Your mother probably can’t spare the time. Don’t worry, I’m your husband. I’ll make sure you and the baby are safe.” As he spoke, he gathered the supplies for the delivery. My heart sank. Next door, Samantha Moore heard the commotion. She opened her door and called out, “Is Gwen in labor? Do you need any help?” Samantha was the partner of a high-ranking government official. She was known for her warmth and fairness. We got along well. With her around, it would be harder for Tyler to try anything suspicious. A flicker of hope sparked in my chest. With a trembling voice, I pleaded, “Samantha, could you please come with me to the hospital? It’s my first time having a baby, and I’m so nervous my heart’s about to jump out of my chest.”

Samantha set down the half-finished shoe insole and flashed a warm smile. “Of course! I’ll go with you. You two are first-time parents, so you’re bound to be all over the place. I can help make sure things go smoothly.” Her quick agreement made my anxiety ease a bit. But just as I started to relax, Tyler’s cool voice came from above. He politely declined Samantha’s offer with well-reasoned arguments. “Samantha, Ryan is still little. He needs you around. What would he do if you went to the hospital? Besides, it’s not good for kids to spend too much time in a place with so many people coming and going.” Ryan was Samantha’s youngest, just two years old and full of energy. Tyler’s words struck a chord with her. As a mother, her children always came first. Samantha began to waver. Sensing this, Tyler pressed his advantage, determined to put her mind at ease. He smiled, “I’ve already checked out the hospital. I know the place inside and out. Plus, I’m a grown man – I can take care of my wife and kid. Don’t worry about a thing, Samantha.” Samantha nodded repeatedly, clearly convinced. My heart, which had been half-settled, now raced with renewed anxiety. Spurred by a wave of pain, I reached for Samantha’s hand, my voice pleading. “Samantha, I’m in so much pain and I’m scared. Could you please come with me to the hospital?” I repeatedly expressed my fears. It was infuriating that no one knew about Tyler’s plan, and even if I said it now, no one would believe me. After all, how could a normal person secretly give away his child without telling his wife? In my past life, I’d been brainwashed into thinking the kid was dead. If I hadn’t stumbled across that money transfer, I’d never have known how “selfless” and “noble” my husband was, giving away his own child. I was in so much pain that I was sweating profusely, my lips pale. I looked pitiful. Samantha’s face showed sympathy, and she was about to agree. “Alright, I guess I could…” At that moment, a child’s loud cry rang out from Samantha’s house. A boy, about seven or eight years old, ran out calling for help. “Mom! The baby pooped all over himself and the bed. It stinks!” Samantha’s face fell, her priorities instantly shifting. She gave an embarrassed smile. “Oh Gwen, I’m so sorry. There’s always something going on at home. I can’t get away right now, but I promise I’ll visit you at the hospital after you give birth. With Tyler by your side, I’m not worried about you at all.” If only she knew that Tyler was exactly why I was worried! The baby’s cries grew louder. Samantha hurried back inside to comfort the child. Tyler carefully adjusted his hold on me, still wearing that “I’ve got everything under control” expression. “Don’t worry, I’m here for you,” he said. The pain was too much for me to speak. I just rolled my eyes at him from the safety of his arms. Then, wrapping my arms around his neck, I sank my teeth into the soft flesh of his throat. “Ouch…” Tyler hissed through his teeth. I felt a surge of satisfaction hearing him in pain. Why should I be the only one suffering? This baby was half his doing, after all. My small act of revenge did little to lift the heaviness in my heart. A sense of helpless dread was threatening to overwhelm me, knowing the dangers that lay ahead but being powerless to avoid them. But I couldn’t just accept my fate. Surely, I wasn’t given this second chance just to repeat the mistakes of my past life! I released Tyler’s neck and leaned against his shoulder, gathering my strength. With Samantha out of the picture, the hospital was my last hope. We made our way down the stairs and through the residential complex. A car was already waiting for us at the main gate. Tyler carried me steadily, his grip never faltering. People stared as we passed, their eyes a mix of envy and admiration. “Mr. Davenport is so capable and thoughtful,” I overheard someone say. “I heard he took two weeks off work to take care of Gwen. Why can’t my husband be more like him?” “Humph, why does Gwen get such special treatment?” someone chimed in. “I remember when I went into labor, I was still out there husking corn. I gave birth right then and there. And when I went home, I had to carry the baby and half a basket of corn on my back!” In my past life, I thought they were just jealous, and I felt so lucky. Now, their words drip with irony. Tyler, the man everyone saw as the perfect husband, was planning to steal my baby out of some twisted sense of obligation. When I confronted him, he had the nerve to suggest I should have more children. In my previous life, I trusted Tyler completely. I never realized how dangerous it was to give birth without family by my side. This time around, I was still alone and helpless. The only difference was that now I knew what he was planning.

In the car, Tyler held me close, whispering words of comfort while repeatedly urging the driver to go faster. His face was a mask of concern as if he’d gladly take my place if he could. The perfect picture of a devoted husband. I closed my eyes to rest with a faint, sardonic smile. “Tyler,” I wondered, “is all this fuss really about my safety and the baby’s? Or are you just worried that if something goes wrong with the child, you won’t be able to repay your war buddy’s life-saving favor? Every day this baby isn’t handed over is another day of torment for your conscience, isn’t it?” The rest of the journey passed in silence. At the hospital, I was rushed into the delivery room. The harsh glare of the fluorescent lights made my eyes ache. Drawing on my experience from a past life, I focused on controlling my breathing and pushing rhythm. I lost track of time as the pain washed over me. Suddenly, I felt a release, as if something had slipped away from my body. “Waaah!” The baby’s clear cry rang out once, then abruptly stopped. “Why isn’t my baby crying?” I thought and struggled to sit up, catching only a glimpse of a nurse hurrying away. “My baby! Where are you taking my child?” I cried out. I tried to follow, but the doctor firmly held me down on the delivery bed. His mask covered most of his face, leaving only his eyes visible. They held a familiar look of pity. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but your baby was stillborn. For your own health, you shouldn’t experience extreme emotions right after giving birth. It’s best to let your husband handle the arrangements for the child.” My heart froze and burned with anger. It was clear now – Tyler had bought off the doctor and nurses before I even went into labor. No matter what condition I or the baby were in after birth, they would all stick to the same story. The baby didn’t make it. In my previous life, I’d passed out from exhaustion and believed every word from Tyler and the medical staff. But now, living through this a second time, I saw right through Tyler’s plan. I didn’t believe a single word they said. “Hang on, my little one,” I thought to myself. “Mommy will find you. I promise.” With fury in my eyes, I slapped the doctor’s hand away and demanded, “I heard my baby cry! Where have you taken my child?” The doctor, unfazed by the blow, shook his head with a resigned look. “Several babies were born around the same time as yours. It’s easy to get confused. You’re still young. Once you’ve recovered, you can have more children.” The words and tone were all too familiar. The doctor’s face kept shifting before my eyes. One moment, I was back in military housing, surrounded by gossiping wives. “Gwen, dear, you can always have another baby. But if you lose your marriage, you lose everything.” “Don’t be angry with Mr. Davenport. Giving up the baby hurts him too. That man saved his life, which was a debt that outweighs everything. How can he be at peace if he doesn’t repay it?” Then, it was Tyler’s impatient face. “Gwen, how long are you going to keep this up? George can’t have children anymore because he saved me. I owe him. “It’s only right that I give him a child to care for him in his old age.” I clenched my fists, crumpling the sheets beneath me. It seemed like Tyler was the only person in the world who had it tough. Tyler was tortured by guilt over the debt he owed George for saving his life. That was why he felt compelled to give away his own son to ease his conscience. He was so conflicted, so anguished. And I, as Tyler’s wife, was apparently committing a grave sin. Instead of joyfully handing our child over to George without a second thought, I kept causing trouble, constantly demanding we find and bring our baby home. I was turning our household upside down, driving Tyler to his wit’s end. How utterly unforgivable of me! Those women were quick to advise me to give up on the child. Of course, it was easy for them to preach generosity. It wasn’t their baby at stake. Tyler, that shameless man, had the audacity to unzip his pants and offer to “bless” me with another child. He made it sound so simple. He wouldn’t be the one enduring nine months of pregnancy, so naturally, he could use our baby to repay his debt. All to clear his conscience and earn a reputation for gratitude. How convenient for him. But no one had asked if I was willing. All the resentment, heartache, and frustration from my past and present lives erupted at once. Suddenly, I felt filled with strength. That was my child. No one could take it away! I grabbed the doctor’s collar, using him for support as I sat up. My scream was hoarse with rage. “What gives you the right to say my baby is dead? I want proof! If you’ve got nothing to hide, why won’t you let me see my child?” The doctor’s face turned red as the collar tightened around his neck. A nearby nurse rushed over to pry my fingers loose. The doctor cleared his throat, his voice hoarse from the ordeal. “Ahem! The patient is becoming hysterical. We need a sedative, stat!” He had just managed to break free from the restraints. Rubbing his sore wrists, he croaked out orders to the nurse. The nurse swiftly handed him a syringe and pushed me back down onto the bed. The doctor pressed the plunger, the sharp needle glinting as it moved towards me.

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After nine years of marriage, Andrew Thorne’s affairs had become routine, with mistresses coming and going like the seasons. I was no longer the Anne Hollister who’d beg and plead for him to change his ways every time I caught wind of his womanizing. He’d barely set sail on his yacht with some internet celebrity before I was off to the beach stargazing with another man. Later, when Andrew spotted me in that man’s arms, he lost it. His eyes blazed with fury as he confronted me. “Anne, I thought you loved me more than anything. “How could you be with another man?”

Seven years into my love for Landon, I got kidnapped. Those two months of pure hell left me scarred all over. And during that whole nightmare, Landon called me just once. When he heard my cries, he simply said, “Nice acting,” as if it meant nothing. But then, when I was about to marry someone else, suddenly he was on his knees, begging me not to leave.