Melodramatic

Everyone in Eimport knew Ethan as a ruthless tycoon. Yet this same man humbly loved me. When his enemies kidnapped me for revenge, he charged bare-handed into an inferno so fierce even firefighters hesitated. I was unconscious but unscathed, while Ethan's right arm bore grotesque burns that would never fully heal. Unbothered, he even declared to the world that these scars were proof of our love. I was touched and browsed positions for couples online while he worked late. But everything shattered when I stumbled onto a video. The man's face was blurred, but the scar snaking up his wrist was unmistakable. The woman trapped in his gilded cage bore a striking resemblance to me. My heart hammered, torn between terror and devastation. That very night, I decided to leave and not ever see him again.

My sister gets into an accident and needs an emergency blood transfusion when I'm six months pregnant. After a round of tests, my blood is the only suitable one. I'm exhausted and too skinny after being tormented by morning sickness. I have to say no. However, my family forces me to do it. I have no strength to resist; I can only beg my husband for help. To my devastation, he stands by and watches me coldly. "It's fine for you to donate some blood since you're so healthy. Queenie isn't the same as you—she has a bright future ahead, so we can't let anything affect that." I pass out after the blood donation. The first thing I do when I wake up is make an appointment for an abortion.

My husband, Frank Myer, ruined himself by taking random medication and coming to me for treatment. I simply sneered at him and deliberately stalled for time, letting him end up disabled for life! In my previous life, my husband had purposely ruined himself to help his childhood sweetheart, Karen White, get promoted. I anxiously asked if he had taken anything harmful, but he swore he had not. When I asked him to do a full checkup, he accused me of having no ethics and claimed that I would even scam my own husband for a promotion. His childhood sweetheart insisted on a conservative treatment instead. I kicked out his unqualified sweetheart and performed the surgery myself. It was a total success, but she made a huge scene about it after feeling humiliated by being thrown out. She even threatened suicide. My husband was furious and lied that the surgery had failed, even reporting me for forcing him into surgery against medical advice, getting me blacklisted from the medical field. His sweetheart, however, simply dabbed some disinfectant on him, and he announced that she had cured him, instantly making her famous and earning her a promotion. When I confronted him, my husband said that if it weren't for me, he wouldn't have had to go to such lengths for her, and that I am the reason he was suffering. Then, he suffocated me with a pillow. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back to the very day he ruined himself.

On the day of our engagement, my girlfriend, Jean Sullivan, is nowhere to be found until late at night. Beside myself with worry, I, Seth Lloyd, frantically reach out to our mutual friends and even consider calling the police. Suddenly, I come across a post about her from her assistant, Callum Cox. "My manager came over to discuss some plans, but the door lock suddenly broke. Does this mean we're going to be stuck in the same room tonight? I can't help feeling a little excited." When I like the post, Jean immediately calls me, furious. "Don't you have any idea how much I earn in a year? Just one day of my lost income would cover what you make in a whole week. "All I did was skip that stupid engagement party, and you start acting all snide. I don't have time to deal with your stingy relatives." My mom, Teresa Whitfield, stays silent, her eyes sweeping over the gold, eight sets of haute couture jewelry, and several property transfer deeds in the private room. With a forced smile, she asks, "Seth, have all these wedding gifts we've prepared embarrassed you?" I sneer, caressing the keys to the luxury car I'm about to give Jean. "No, it's me who's being too generous to her."

Leo, my mate, wanted to spend Valentine's Day with Cheryl, his first love, on the night Victor and Vera, his parents, were abducted. But this time, instead of stopping him, I contacted the Werewolf Enforcement Bureau to help. After all, when I tried to stop him in the last life, Cheryl ended up dying a horrific death, her heart gouged out by the Feral Rogues, a group of werewolf gangsters. "You killed her! Cheryl wouldn't have died if it weren't for you!" Without hesitation, Leo threw me into a cave where a pack of hungry wolves tore through my body, along with the child I was about to bring into the world. "You don't deserve to live after what you've done… I'm going to stand here and watch you endure all the pain she felt as she died!" Surprisingly, rather than staying dead, I woke up on the exact day when Victor and Vera were abducted once more…

It was our seventh anniversary. Christopher Quinton proposed to me with nothing but a ring pull. He got his true love a house. When I said no, he rebuked me like I was some sort of gold digger. "I thought my love for you was worth more than anything money could buy. I only got Rachel that house to pay her back for all she did for me. I can't believe you thought I still loved her. You disappoint me." I broke up with him and tossed the ring pull into the bin. Then, I walked off. The next day, Christopher took away my position as VP and told everyone he was getting engaged to Rachel. … Five years later, we ran into each other at a charity horserace. He was a successful businessman, and the woman beside him was Rachel, all dressed in custom-made clothes. I was dressed in janitor attire and stuffing plastic bottles into my woven bag. He mocked, "Look at you, Queenie Dean. Scavenging for a living. Bet you didn't see this coming when you ditched me, did you?" I ignored him. My son had run off, and I had to look for him. The boy noticed the plastic bottles that were strewn across the ground, and he insisted that we stay back to finish his social practice activity here.

We had been together for seven years, yet my CEO boyfriend canceled our marriage registration 99 times. The first time, his newly hired assistant got locked in the office. He rushed back to deal with it, leaving me standing outside the County Clerk's Office until midnight. The fifth time, we were about to sign when he heard his assistant had been harassed by a client. He left me there and ran off to "rescue" her, while I was left behind, humiliated and laughed at by others. After that, no matter when we scheduled our registration, there was always some emergency with his assistant that needed him more. Eventually, I gave up completely and chose to leave. However, after I moved away from Twilight City, he spent the next five years desperately searching for me, like a man who had finally lost his mind.

When I was reborn, returning back to the day of filling out the mate registration form, I decided to write my sister Sophia Harrington's name on the form. I would help her achieve her dreams with Adrian Northgate in this lifetime. Without waiting for Adrian to ask, I gave the wedding dress to my sister ahead of time and placed the ring that symbolized our mate bond into her hands. I did not argue or make a fuss. Instead, I facilitated every opportunity for them to spend time together. When he took my sister to fight in the southern territories, I quietly packed everything up and went to university in the northern grasslands. This was because, in my previous life, I devoted myself to caring for our family. Yet, after Adrian was promoted to the pack's first warrior, he and our son knelt before me, begging me to dissolve our mate bond so that he could fulfill his love for Sophia. Living this life again, I decided not to become mates with Adrian. I wanted to pursue my dreams — to study at the Northern Grassland Werewolf University, become a medical doctor, and live the free life I had always desired!

My parents used the compensation money from my sister's car accident to buy a four-room house, but they only let me stay in the bathroom. My twin brothers, who were not even a year old, each had their own room. When the twins grew up, they got into a car accident. One of them needed a corneal transplant, the other needed a heart. My parents begged me to donate and save them. When I tried to escape, they betrayed me. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back to the time just after my sister's death. I sought justice for my sister and myself, and made my parents pay for what they had done.

Imagine my shock when I found out that my husband, a professor who had proudly embraced a childless life for half of his years, had an affair with one of his own students. She even had his six-year-old son. The day I planned to report him to the university, Zia Thompson came to my door with the child and knelt in front of me. "Maybe you and Zeke were in love once," she said. "But he's over forty now. Who doesn't want to have a child? A legacy?" "I don't need a title," she went on. "I can give up the child too. I just beg you, don't tear our family apart." I looked at my husband, who stood protectively in front of them. I felt terrifyingly calm. "Cut ties with them," I said, my voice flat, "or prepare to be reported to the university. You choose." Without a moment's hesitation, he tore the report letter into shreds. I thought that was his answer. But on the fifty-second night of a bed grown cold and a home echoing with silence, he still hadn't returned. Instead, I received news that Zia was pregnant again. She had graduated by then. The report I never sent no longer posed any threat to them. Zeke didn't bother to hide his fatigue and irritation anymore. "Treat Zia and the kids well," he said, "or keep living alone in that empty house. It's your choice." My heart was already a wasteland. "I have one more option," I said. "I choose divorce."