Las Casualidades No Existen

I loved Spencer. Even though I knew he only saw Fiona when he looked at me. I clung to the wedding dress he picked out himself, holding onto the dream of a future that felt so close. But on our wedding day, she came back. In front of everyone, he has my dress ripped apart—for her. Now, he knelt before my grave, begging for forgiveness. But all I could think was, even here, he was ruining my peace.

On day ten of our cold war, Barry posted a pic—him and Lyla, locked in a kiss. His 'one true love.' I sent in my study abroad application without a word. At our grad party, he strolled in with Lyla, fingers laced with hers, looking at her with all his affection. A friend hesitated. "But what about Amelia? She loves you. You guys are getting married." Barry smirked. "She was just a stand-in. Now that Lyla's back, my fiancée should change too." So I slipped off the ring, handed it over, and disappeared. And he lost it. Tore through everything trying to find me. Years later, he finally did. Saw me with my husband, picking out baby supplies. His eyes went red. "Amelia, come back with me. Please?"

Mi prometido me pidió matrimonio en un puestito callejero, pero a ella le juró amor eterno en un yate de lujo. A 48 horas de la boda, lo dejé.

My husband and I spend 50 loving years together. On the day of our golden wedding anniversary, someone pushes me down a flight of stairs. As I drift in and out of consciousness, I miraculously regain my hearing. I lost it in the process of saving my husband when we were younger. I hear my husband say to my son, "You shouldn't have dirtied your hands." "How long more are you going to put up with her, Dad? Calista doesn't have much longer to wait." My husband sighs heavily. After a moment, I feel someone remove my oxygen tube. I descend into boundless darkness. When I open my eyes again, I've been taken back to the 80s—before I married my husband. The only difference is that I can hear this time.

After Isabella is kicked out of her own home by her scheming stepmother and stepsister, she's left feeling lost and betrayed, with even her ex-fiancé turning his back on her. But fate throws her a curveball when she comes across an injured stranger and reluctantly decides to shelter him. Little does Isabella know, this Mr. Vagrant is a big shot in the city. But... this man she saved loved spending money so much that she almost went broke!

My elder sister, Emma Rothschild, longs for a life of luxury. As such, she requests to marry the prince of Northia, Matias Redburn. On the other hand, I'm married off to an elven scholar visiting human territory, Aleron Glintwood. After the wedding with Emma, Matias leaves Northia and visits the giant clan's territory to establish a trade route. He's never heard of again. Meanwhile, I accompany Aleron to Empiria. He obtains a teaching position at the Royal Academy of Magic by virtue of his elven talent for magic. As for me, I become a highly envied professor's wife. Emma continues to live alone in the Northian Frozen Plains. She's later discovered to be having an affair with a human knight. When the Draconian Council of Elders exiles her from their lands, our father—Gareth Rothschild—furiously declares that he's severing ties with her. She's thus forever cut off from the Rothschild family. While I'm on my way home for the festival, Emma forcibly stops my carriage. She begs me to take her home and put in a good word for her. Along the way, she suddenly grabs the reins. As a result, the carriage goes out of control and tumbles over a cliff. When I regain consciousness, I see Emma on the floor. She's crying and demanding a change in engagement plans. At that moment, I realize that she's also been reborn. However, Emma doesn't know that life with the elves isn't as wonderful as she imagines. I immediately begin preparing for the magic academy's entrance exam. This time, I'll spare no effort to be admitted into the academy myself.

The second Zoe reset her life and landed back at the Elite Match Gala, she swapped her token with her half-sister's. No hesitation. Because in her previous life, Connor had married Zoe, but she had died helpless and unloved. It was only on her deathbed that Zoe finally knowed the truth: Connor had loved her sister all along. Now, Connor grabbed the bouquet meant for Vicky, eyes lighting up."Vicky, you're it for me. My one and only." Then he turned to Zoe—and the warmth vanished. "Zoe, you've always been like a little sister to me. Don't even think about stepping into Vicky's place." That hit like a slap. Cold, sharp, humiliating. Everyone thought she was pathetic. But this time, Zoe wouldn’t beg for his love. She would bless them instead—marry the man her father had chosen for her, and never look back.

I was in love with Ethan Black, a brilliant man with big dreams. I gave him my twenties, my body, my loyalty. I worked three jobs while he chased his startup dreams. And when he finally made it, he became a stranger. Then I found out he got another woman pregnant, the same woman who dumped him in college when his family lost everything. That nearly destroyed me. But I stayed. I told myself love was worth it. But nothing could prepare me for the day he left our four-year-old daughter home alone… to go see her. And our little girl died. I buried my child and with her, the woman I used to be. Now, I live for one thing only: Revenge. He took everything from me. Now I’ll take everything from him. He doesn’t know it yet… but I’m not the same woman he left behind. And by the time I’m done, he’ll wish he never met me.

On my birthday, I personally prepare 16 dishes. After setting up the candlelight, I open a bottle of red wine. I take a photo and send it to my husband, Eric Sinclair. "I'm working late tonight. Don't wait for me," he replies. I choose to believe him. But after midnight, I notice an Instagram story posted by Shirley Huxley, his secretary. Eric was there with her, dressed in the trench coat I once gave him. They sat side by side in the VIP seat of football stadium where my favorite Super Bowl take place. Entwined in a passionate embrace, they kissed beneath a sea of shimmering lights and the roar of thousands of fans. That game is the one I have always longed to experience with him. I look down at the cold food on the table. Eric's words keep ringing in my head. "I hate kissing." "Marriage is a partnership, not about love and kisses." Though we've been married for ten years, we've never shared a single kiss. Meanwhile, he's out there, kissing Shirley openly and passionately. Despite it all, not a single tear falls from my eyes. The next day, Eric settles into his chair, completely unfazed. "Return the gallery to Shelly," he commands. I nod quietly, saying nothing. Suddenly, Layla Sinclair, my daughter, comes running down the stairs and throws herself into Shirley's arms. "Aunt Shirley, you're my favorite. I don't like Mom!" In that instant, it hits me—the home I devoted my heart and soul to means nothing anymore. It doesn't matter that I've been married to Eric for a decade. Now, all I want is to find myself again. I decide to accept an invitation from the Parisoir School of Fashion Design. From this moment on, I won't wait for them to come home, and I won't look back.

The doctors said it was over—stage four, nothing left to fight. I had three days, max. I signed the organ donor papers myself. If I was gonna die, at least someone else could get a second shot. Told my family I was sick. But my so-called sister—the doctor—shrugged it off like I was making it up. She convinced them I was losing it, not dying. My parents and fiancé fell for it. Handed me over like she was some hero. She wasn't. She pushed me closer to the end. And when I finally died, the same people who wouldn't listen cried like they hadn't let it happen.