Tragic Ending

"Kamu harus jadi istri saya, Asma." -Basuki "Asma nggak mau nikah sama orang yang nggak bener-bener suka sama Asma." -Asmaranti Kisah ini bermula saat Basuki kembali menjadi seorang duda untuk kedua kalinya. Istri keduanya meninggal dunia setahun setelah melahirkan putra pertama mereka. Sama-sama menikah untuk yang kedua kalinya, mendiang istrinya memilik seorang putri yang sudah beranjak dewasa. Dia Asmaranti, seorang gadis muda berparas cantik yang dengan baik hati mau merawat Dika setelah kepergian Ranti. Singkat cerita, karena telah terbiasa hidup bersama, membuat benih-benih cinta mulai tumbuh di antara keduanya. Namun Asma berusaha menepis perasaan itu karena takut jika Basuki hanya mencintai dirinya karena masih belum bisa melupakan bayang-bayang ibunya. Lalu bagaimana Basuki meyakinkan Asma jika perasaannya ini adalah nyata?

"Kalila melahirkan. Lebih tepatnya, mau melahirkan." Bak dihatam palu godam, dadaku mendadak terasa sakit dan sesak. Tenggorokanku seketika tercekat, sehingga jangankan untuk bicara, bernapas pun teramat sulit. Gusti, kenapa ini semua terjadi? Apa selama ini aku salah mendidik Kalila? Tak ada angin tak ada hujan, tiba-tiba aku akan mempunyai cucu.

Nasi aking, tentu akan berpikiran tentang nasi sisa yang diolah kembali. Hidup dalam serba kekurangan akibat sang suami terkena PHK besar-besaran di sebuah perusahaan. Membuat Risa berusaha bertahan hidup dengan mengandalkan nasi aking pemberian suaminya, yang berubah drastis menjadi buruh serabutan. Namun tanpa disadari, dibalik nasi aking itu, tersimpan sebuah rahasia besar yang disimpan oleh sang suami, yang tak pernah Risa duga sama sekali. Setelah rahasia besar terbongkar, kehidupan lampau Risa terungkit kembali dan menyisakan penyesalan yang mendalam. Rahasia apakah itu? Simak selengkapnya sampai tamat.

Sepulang dari tanah jawa, mertua membawa seorang perempuan untuk dinikahkan dengan suamiku. Aku pantang disakiti, kita akan bermain dengan elegan

The day before our wedding, my fiancé Cyrus eloped with his long-lost love. I chased after him, but he shoved me away viciously, causing me to lose consciousness. When the doctor called him as my life was on the brink, all he did was scoff and say, “She’s just pretending again. In a coma? Hah, she’s still alive, isn’t she?” That moment, my heart shattered. After I was discharged from the hospital, I cancelled the wedding, just as he wanted. But then he began to regret it…

I never thought a dance could bring me disaster Tonight, at the annual Moon Goddess Festival, my brother, the heir of the Silver Moon pack, Aiden, and I performed a dance together. We won a lot of applause. Aiden made me the star of the festival. Unexpectedly, after the dance, Aiden's mate came with a group of sorority members to bully me. "How dare you flirt with Aiden? Omega! "Break her legs!" “No!No!No! I am Aiden’s sister!” I tried to explain, but they gagged me. I struggled desperately, but it only provoked an even more brutal beating. "If she's so horny, strip her naked and throw her into the boys' restroom," Bella said, standing nearby with her arms crossed. Tears of despair streamed down my face. Just then, Aiden arrived. "I'll make every one of you pay for this!" he roared.

When my family went bankrupt, I was drugged and sent to the bed of my childhood sweetheart, Craig Kennedy. From that night, he brought women home every evening, tossing a divorce agreement in my face. "Beg me, and I won't leave you." He stood above me, watching as I humbled myself to dust, pleading to preserve our marriage. He even ordered me to kneel in his office and massage the feet of his secretary, Lucia Langston. On the day the Moore Group needed ten million to survive, she blocked all my desperate calls for help. I waited 24 hours, watching my family's legacy collapse and my parents take their lives. Craig, with Lucia at his side, entered the house and threw the signed divorce agreement at me again. "You wanted money to save your family, didn't you? Beg me, and as long as I don't divorce you, no one will touch them." But I signed it with calm despair. "Don't bother. We no longer need your help."

My husband, Jacob Morris, wrongly believed that I had pushed the woman he loved down the stairs. So, he locked me in the basement to make me reflect on my actions. He hired people to punish me, trying to break my spirit. I suffered inhumane torture. My tendons were cut, and my face was disfigured. Four years later, he finally remembered me and let me out. But by then, I was too broken to love him anymore.

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."

To save money for a house, I had been living a frugal life with my boyfriend, Desmond Wood. When Desmond received a twenty-thousand-dollar bonus, he bought me a branded bag. I was delighted, but I felt that he did not need to spend so much on me. Hence, I brought the receipt and the bag to the shop for a refund. The shopkeeper told me that my bag was fake. However, the receipt was real.