The Man Who Abandoned Her Love

My Husband's Secret, My Silent War

On our third wedding anniversary, my husband's "best friend," Jade, told a room full of people about the night she spent kissing a scar on his hip. My husband, Julian, just laughed. He chose her, not me. That night, I found their secret group chat. They called me "the ball and chain." But the worst message was from Julian. He confessed he'd been swapping my birth control pills with placebos for a year, all while promising to be a sperm donor for her. He had held me while I cried over my "unexplained infertility," telling me I was all he needed. It was all a sick, calculated lie. The next morning, he left for her birthday trip, forgetting it was my birthday too. He told me to stay home. Instead, I got in my car and followed them. I was done watching my marriage die. It was time to burn his world to the ground.

You Live the Rest of Your Life on Your Own

On the day Colby married Ruben the heir to the Gibson Group, not a single member of the Gibson family attended the wedding to offer their blessings. Only Brenda, Ruben's grandmother, made a phone call to her. "Want to make a bet? If, by the third year, you both are still in love, I will persuade the Gibson family to accept you. On the contrary, you must leave Ruben, and I will find him a woman whose family status aligns better with his." Colby agreed confidently. Ruben loved her as if his life depended on it, even willing to cut off his family for her. How could their love not last three years? But she never anticipated that in the third year of their marriage, Ruben would betray her.

Dying for His Love, Reborn

"Ava, are you really going to propose to Liam again?" My best friend, Sarah, looked at me with worried eyes. I just smiled and adjusted my brand-new dress. This was the fourth time; it had to be a success. An hour later, I was at the Grand Hotel, clutching the custom-made engagement ring for Liam. He was making a "huge announcement," and his best friend said he wanted me there. My heart raced, certain this was it-after three years and three rejections, he was finally ready to accept me. But then, standing beside him in the spotlight, was a beautiful woman I' d never seen before. "This is Chloe Green," Liam announced, "My fiancée." My world imploded. The room erupted in applause, but to me, it was deafening silence. Hundreds of eyes turned to me-pity, mockery, amusement. I was the city' s biggest joke, watching him slip a sparkling diamond on her finger. When I tried to show him the ring I' d brought, he sneered, "You thought I' d ever want something from you? You thought I' d ever want you?" Then he threw my precious, custom-made ring into the dark, freezing river below the balcony, challenging me: "Go get it, then. If you can find that ring in the river, I' ll believe you." Despite my fragile health and my doctor' s warning, I jumped. I found it, shivering and half-drowned, and returned to him, only for him to declare, "This scar... Every time I see it, it makes me sick. I would never marry a woman like you. Get out of my sight." The scar was from the kidney I' d donated to save his life. I died alone in an empty chapel days later, a "dying wish" marriage proposal from me twisted into his cruel, public humiliation. My ghost, tethered to his hatred, watched him publicly propose to Chloe while I faded into transparency, my very existence erased by his disgust. But a private investigator and my doctor had the truth about my sacrifice-my hidden kidney donation, my last letter to him. They revealed it all, forcing him to confront the monster he had been.

Marry A Comatose Man I' d Never Met

I stared at my father, cutting through the tense living room silence. "I want to marry Blake Harrison." Just hours before, I' d woken to a terrifying truth: My life wasn't my own. I was the villainous side character, destined to be sacrificed to showcase Chloe Davis, the protagonist. The world' s script had a tragic ending for me: My brother, Mark, would disown me. My childhood crush, David, would forge a psychiatric evaluation. And my fiancé, Ethan, would use it to have me committed to a mental institution. I' d be the first casualty in their twisted love game for Chloe. I became Chloe's plaything. She "accidentally" locked me in a freezer, causing near-fatal hypothermia. Then she framed me for a "cut," leading to my forced skin graft. She poisoned me with mangoes, knowing my severe allergy, almost killing me, only for them to demand I apologize to her. They publicly humiliated me with my private photos and then killed my beloved cat, Snowball, cooking him into a soup she made me drink. I didn't understand how their devotion to Chloe made them so cruel. How could the men who once protected me become my tormentors, twisting every truth to fit Chloe's narrative? I refused to accept that fate. I would escape, reveal the truth, and rewrite my ending. My chosen path? Marriage to a comatose man I' d never met.

His Betrayal, Her Rebirth

My career as a marketing strategist was unstoppable. Then Chloe Davis walked in, a new hire with a smile too bright and a chilling claim: "I'm a reborn person." She started "predicting" disasters-a major client product failure, a restaurant fire-events that strangely came true, catapulting her to prophet status. Suddenly, my data-driven expertise meant nothing. My promotion, the one I had earned, was given to Chloe. When I confided in my boyfriend and colleague, Mark, about resigning, he looked at me with cold eyes: "Mr. Thompson will think you' re a flight risk. That you' re bitter." The next day, as I prepared to quit, Mr. Thompson confronted me with fake emails, expertly crafted by Mark, showing me colluding with our biggest rival. My resignation was refused; instead, I was publicly demoted to administrative duties, stripped of my dignity. Mark, my supposed partner, stood by Chloe, a triumphant smirk on his face. The humiliation was a physical weight, pushing me to the brink. In my previous life, consumed by despair, I took my own life on the marble steps of the agency that had once been my dream. But then, my eyes snapped open. I was back in the conference room, listening to Chloe's chilling introduction: "I'm a reborn person." This time, I wasn't going to be a victim.

His Obsession, My Betrayal

One year with David Chen felt like paradise after Jake, but love, I learned, is a master illusionist. I thought I' d found solace in David' s arms, after my long-term boyfriend Jake unceremoniously dropped me for his high school sweetheart, Emily. Then, on our first anniversary, hunting for a rare comic, I stumbled upon David' s secret studio-not a creative haven, but a chilling shrine to Emily Carter, plastered floor to ceiling with her portraits. Hundreds of his letters lay scattered, each a meticulously dated testament to a seven-year obsession, detailing how he used my heartbreak, my trust, to orchestrate Jake and Emily' s reunion. I wasn' t a girlfriend; I was a pawn in his sick game, a means to an end for the woman he truly loved to get back with my ex. The betrayal was a violation, worse than Jake' s, a cold, calculated masterpiece of manipulation that turned my year of healing into a cruel deception. I had to escape, to sever this twisted knot of lies, and the only way out was to call my parents and accept the arranged marriage I' d always laughed at. Just as the decision formed, David' s cheerful voice echoed through the studio, followed by the shattering sound of groceries, and his fake smile dissolving as he saw the truth laid bare. He tried to smooth it over, playing the concerned lover, until I revealed my drastic plan: "I' m moving to New York. I'm getting married." His dismissive smirk was quickly replaced by panic as Emily Carter herself appeared, walking calmly into his web of lies, confirming his deception. Later, doubled over in agony, suffering from a ruptured appendix, I called him for help-the man I thought loved me. He hung up, choosing to tend to Emily' s "headache" over my very real, life-threatening pain, dismissing my screams as manipulative drama. The words "You're just trying to get my attention" echoed as my phone died, the realization slicing through me: he would rather let me die than displease her. Finally, face-to-face in the hospital, he saw me. He saw the IV, the monitors, the reality of my near-death while he' d coddled his fragile Emily just feet away, oblivious. Yet, his gaze hardened, turning from me back to her, and he walked away, promising to return, a promise I knew was as hollow as his love. I fled to New York, rebuilding my life, forging a new identity, finding unexpected peace with my arranged fiancé, Ethan. But the past wasn' t done. David found me.

The Scars She Hid From The World

The heavy iron gates of the Wilderness Correction Camp groaned as they released me after three years of state-sponsored hell. I stood on the dirt road, clutching a plastic bag that held my entire life, waiting for the family that claimed they sent me there for "rehab." My brother, Brady, picked me up in a luxury SUV only to throw me out onto a deserted highway in the middle of a brewing storm. He told me I was a "public relations nightmare" and that the rain might finally wash the "stink" of the camp off me. He drove away, leaving me to limp miles through the mud on a snapped ankle. When I finally dragged myself to our family estate, my mother didn't offer a hug; she gasped in horror because my muddy clothes were ruining her Italian marble. They didn't give me my old room back. Instead, they banished me to a moldy gardener’s shack and hired a "babysitter" to make sure I didn't embarrass them further. My sister, Kaleigh, stood there in white cashmere, pretending to cry while clinging to her fiancé, Ambrose—the man who had once been mine. They all treated me like a volatile junkie, refusing to acknowledge that Kaleigh was the one who planted the drugs in my bag three years ago. They wanted to believe I was broken so they wouldn't have to feel guilty about the "wellness retreat" that was actually a torture chamber. I sat in the dark of that shed, feeling the cooling gel on the cigarette burns that covered my arms, and realized they had made a fatal mistake. They thought they had erased me, but I had returned with a roadmap of scars and a hidden satellite phone. At dinner, I didn't beg for their love. I simply rolled up my sleeves and showed them the price of their silence. As the wine spilled and the lies crumbled, I sent a single text to the only person I trusted: "I'm in. Let them simmer." The hunt was finally on.

Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You Can't Afford Me Now

The whispers said that out of bitter jealousy, Hadley shoved Eric's beloved down the stairs, robbing the unborn child of life. To avenge, Eric forced Hadley abroad and completely cut her off. Years later, she reemerged, and they felt like strangers. When they met again, she was the nightclub's star, with men ready to pay fortunes just to glimpse her elusive performance. Unable to contain himself, Eric blocked her path, asking, "Is this truly how you earn a living now? Why not come back to me?" Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you’re eager to see me, you’d better join the queue, darling."

The Forgotten Mother's Vow: Taking Back What's Hers

Isabelle's love for Kolton held flawless for fifteen years-until the day she delivered their children and slipped into a coma. He leaned to her ear and whispered, "Don't wake up. You're worthless to me now." The twins later clutched another woman's hand and chirped, "Mommy," splintering Isabelle's heart. She woke, filed for divorce, and disappeared. Only then did Kolton notice her fingerprints on every habit. They met again: she emerged as the lead medical specialist, radiant and unmoved. But at her engagement gala, she leapt into a tycoon's arms. Jealous, he crushed a glass, blood wetting his palm. He believed as soon as he made a move, Isabelle would return to him. After all, she had loved him deeply.

After My Husband Cheated, I Married His Greatest Rival

The rain assaulted the glass, mirroring the storm inside me. For three years, I, Vivian Sterling, played the perfect wife to Julian Kensington, draining my life. The antique clock ticked, a reminder of time lost. Then, I found it: a blonde hair on Julian's suit, reeking of Midnight Rose, and a text, ""Candy: You left your cufflinks on my nightstand. I'm already missing you."" My world shattered, revealing his betrayal. This was just the beginning. I exposed Julian's fraud and his family's violent plots, surviving assassination. But their malice stole my past. Then Alexander Vance, my protector, uncovered a terrifying truth: my birth mother was alive, held captive by a shadowy order. My life was a lie, built to shield me from my dangerous bloodline. I found strength and love with Alexander, the man who walked into fire for me. Yet, as I prepared to rescue my mother, a new life stirred within me, a secret threatening to complicate the impending war.

Burned By Him, Reborn A Star

The acrid smell of smoke still clung to Evelyn in the ambulance, her lungs raw from the penthouse fire. She was alive, but the world around her felt utterly destroyed, a feeling deepened by the small TV flickering to life. On it, her husband, Julian Vance, thousands of miles away, publicly comforted his mistress, Serena Holloway, shielding her from paparazzi after *her* "panic attack." Julian's phone went straight to voicemail. Alone in the hospital with second-degree burns, Evelyn watched news replays, her heart rate spiking. He protected Serena from camera flashes while Evelyn burned. When he finally called, he demanded she handle insurance, dismissing the fire; Serena's voice faintly heard. The shallow family ties and pretense of marriage evaporated. A searing injustice and cold anger replaced pain; Evelyn knew Julian had chosen to let her burn. "Evelyn Vance died in that fire," she declared, ripping out her IV. Armed with a secret fortune as "The Architect," Hollywood's top ghostwriter, she walked out. She would divorce Julian, reclaim her name, and finally step into the spotlight as an actress.

Abandoned Luna: Now Untouchable

For eight years, Cecilia Moore was the perfect Luna, loyal, and unmarked. Until the day she found her Alpha mate with a younger, purebred she-wolf in his bed. In a world ruled by bloodlines and mating bonds, Cecilia was always the outsider. But now, she's done playing by wolf rules. She smiles as she hands Xavier the quarterly financials-divorce papers clipped neatly beneath the final page. "You're angry?" he growls. "Angry enough to commit murder," she replies, voice cold as frost. A silent war brews under the roof they once called home. Xavier thinks he still holds the power-but Cecilia has already begun her quiet rebellion. With every cold glance and calculated step, she's preparing to disappear from his world-as the mate he never deserved. And when he finally understands the strength of the heart he broke... It may be far too late to win it back.