Emotional

In my past life, my father arranged betrothals for both my brother and me, leaving the choice to us. Without hesitation, my brother chose the wealthy heiress, forcing me to marry the housekeeper's daughter. But the heiress turned out to be a cruel woman. She brought her first love home and humiliated my brother every day. Meanwhile, the housekeeper's daughter I married ended up winning hundreds of millions in the lottery, granting me a life free from financial worries. Jealous of my prosperous life, my brother deliberately drove his car straight into me. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day we're supposed to choose our betrothed. My brother rushes to choose the housekeeper's daughter first. "Jason Wright, it's my turn to enjoy the good life! You can go keep that awful woman company!" I smile. He doesn't know that my comfortable life was never dependent on my wife.

My best friend and I go to a music festival together. There, my brother's girlfriend locks me in the toilet. "Young women these days are so shameless—I can't believe you had the nerve to seduce my CEO boyfriend! I'm going to teach you a lesson today since your parents obviously didn't raise you right!" She refuses to listen to my explanation. She pours dirty water all over me before slapping me in public and stripping me. Then, she brands me with an insult. By the time my brother arrives, I'm tormented beyond recognition. "I can explain, Spencer! I thought you were lying when you said she was your sister!"

Alexander Morrison doesn't love me, nor does he love our daughter. The only person he loves is his first love, Charlotte Clarke. To maintain his perfect image in Charlotte's eyes, he only allows our daughter to call him "Uncle Alex". This continues until Charlotte becomes pregnant and goes abroad to marry someone else. Alexander drinks himself into oblivion and finally decides to marry me. When he comes home, our daughter gives him 100 forgiveness coupons. I tell him that once those 100 coupons are used up, I'll take our daughter and leave him forever. He holds us both tightly in his arms, swearing he will never make us sad again. During the initial few years of our secret marriage, he indeed does exceptionally well, as not a single coupon is used. That is, until Charlotte returns to the country with her daughter. Every time he abandons me and our daughter for Charlotte and her child, I tear off one forgiveness coupon. Now, only three coupons remain.

I was the heiress switched at birth by a nanny. It was not until I turned eighteen that my biological parents finally found me, and traded me back for the girl they had raised and loved as their own. However, fate played a cruel joke that very same week. My parents died in a car accident. The family business collapsed. In one night, I lost everything. My older brother survived, but his kidneys failed. I did not hesitate. I gave him mine. However, grief broke something in him. Blaming me for our parents' deaths, he spiraled into madness. "You killed Mom and Dad! Why wasn't it you who died instead?" he screamed. I gave up college and took on three jobs a day just to pay for his treatment. Years passed. One day, while cleaning a mansion as a housekeeper, I saw her, the "sister" I was traded for, gliding through a lavish party, dressed in designer clothes and dripping in jewels. I froze when I heard the voices I had long thought silenced. My parents, alive, speaking to her as gently as ever: "Jasmine, you're so compassionate… agreeing to end Helen's punishment early." My brother, the one who should still be seeing a therapist, frowned and objected. "No. Not even a day less. Just because she suffers a little doesn't mean she deserves to live." I glanced down at the medical report still warm in my hands. For the first time in years, I smiled. "Perfect," I whispered. "Now I can finally die like I wanted to."

As I stepped out of my older brother's newly opened supermarket, the alarm suddenly rang. The sales assistant grimly reached out and grabbed me, "Miss, you haven't paid yet." I remembered that my buttons were made of metal, which triggered the alarm. After patiently explaining and easing the atmosphere, I said, "The owner of this supermarket is my older brother. He'll pay the bill." The sales assistant scoffed. "Your brother's the boss? Why not say he's your husband instead? You stole and refused to admit it. Pay up or I'll call the police immediately," she said and crumpled the receipt into a ball before throwing it at my face. I endured the humiliation and unfolded it. A baby pacifier for 100,000 dollars. Two packs of baby wet wipes for 200,000 dollars. Security personnel's hush fee, 300,000 dollars. All of the miscellaneous expenses added up to exactly one million dollars. I laughed in anger. "One million dollars? Why don't you just rob a bank? Go and get Chad Surrey. I want to see how I ended up with such a heartless brother." She rolled her eyes. "Don't pretend if you can't afford it, thief. Is Mr. Surrey someone you can see whenever you want?" When my parents came to help me, I said, "Only one of us exists in this family. It's either me or her."

I worked for a restaurant, and our boss loved making empty promises about giving us restaurant shares. The boss said we would start with zero shares, but we could earn 0.01% for every two hours of overtime, covering someone else’s work or saving the restaurant 1,000 bucks. I suggested she write this down in an official document and have someone track it properly. She just smiled and told everyone to work harder. She never actually put it in writing. The experienced staff did not believe her, but one prep cook took it seriously. At the end of the year, he went to the boss to claim his shares. The boss said, “Sorry, the head chef told me there’s no official document, so it doesn’t count. You can’t claim any shares.” The prep cook worked hard all year and got nothing for it, so he took his anger out on me. The day before I was going home for the New Year, he killed me with a knife. “If you hadn’t said it doesn’t count without an official document, this whole restaurant would’ve been mine!” I lay in a pool of blood. When I opened my eyes, I was back to the day the boss first made those empty promises.

I catch the eye of a stranger on the bus. Then, I'm lured into his trap…

Eight years ago, my cousin Wendy Cooper was involved in a drunk driving hit-and-run. Yet, my parents made sure all the evidence pointed toward me. The victim's family waited outside my school every day with gasoline, threatening to die with me. Because of that, the school took away my guaranteed admission to university. That day, my parents and brother all tried to persuade me. "Wendy's terrified. Just give her your spot to make her feel better." I refused, fought back, and even tried to talk them out of it. But the next day, they handed me over to the police themselves. Lance Stewart, my fiance and a powerful business tycoon, had orchestrated it all. As he was afraid I'd run or cause trouble, he personally pinned several charges on me and sent me to an isolated island prison. He left me with no way out. When my sentence began, he made me a promise. "Esme, just endure it for a few years. I'll get you out once Wendy graduates, and then we'll get married."

“Carys, can you relieve me?” I turned beet red as Bryan squirmed in distress, sweat soaking his face. Little did I know, there was more to the harmless-looking man I had always seen as a brother.

Three years after my wife's and daughter's deaths, they came back from the dead. Turns out, my wife hadn't died at all. She'd faked it and married the son of the richest man in Notingdun City. Ever since then, she'd stepped into the glamorous life of a wealthy socialite. When I uncovered the truth, the shock hit me like a bolt of lightning. I confronted her face-to-face. She didn't even flinch. Instead, she sneered, "You think a penniless man like you deserves to be my husband? I've remarried and taken on a new identity. Stay out of my life, or don't blame me for what happens next." Her words cut deep. Even our daughter turned her back on me. Crushed, I let go for good. But not long after, she came back regretful and begged me to remember the vows we made on our wedding day: to never leave, never forsake. I looked at her and laughed coldly. "Yes, I did make that promise once. But sadly, my wife died three years ago."