On the day of our third anniversary, I received a photo. In the photo, a man is lying naked in a sensual room, his face showing the intoxication of desire. That man is none other than the bastard I've loved for seven years. The sender is none other than the white moonlight that the bastard has been yearning for.
Nowadays, you might avoid a scam, but you couldn't escape life's little annoyances.
On our third wedding anniversary, I received a photo.
The man in the picture lay naked in a romantic suite, his face awash with the bliss of indulgence.
That man was none other than Howard Clark, the jerk I'd loved for seven years.
I stared deeply at his face, expecting a pang of heartache that never came, feeling surprisingly calm.
I tried asking Howard, "Honey, do you remember what day it is today?" My heart pounded with anxiety, fearing he might coldly reply, "It's Thursday."
Howard lifted his eyelids, glanced at me, and said sparingly, "It's our anniversary."
My expectations of him were always low. For instance, just remembering our third anniversary was enough to make me happy.
I breathed a sigh of relief, my expression relaxing considerably. "Tonight?" I looked at him expectantly.
"I'll be home early today," he said before leaving.
Not long after Howard left, I changed clothes and went out too. He loved fresh seafood, so I needed to buy the fresh catch delivered early from the pier to the market.
I wasn't interested in seafood myself; it was troublesome to prepare and difficult to eat-shrimp need peeling, fish need scaling and deboning.
But since Howard liked it, and they said the way to a man's heart was through his stomach, I had no choice but to embrace it.
Every time I watched him savor the dishes I made, I hoped he could love me just a little bit in return.
Just a little, I didn't ask for much, just a bit of love.
The entire morning, I busied myself with preparing the seafood. My hands suffered, with countless tiny cuts, but the thought of Howard enjoying the taste and satisfaction made it all worthwhile.
Around four-thirty in the afternoon, I prepared for the last dish, clam chowder.
After washing my hands several times with toothpaste and taking a shower, I used plenty of body wash to rid myself of any seafood smell.
Ironically, Howard's favorite food was seafood, yet he hated the smell of fresh seafood when they were raw, just like how he married me but didn't love me-completely the same.
After the shower, I put on the clothes and shoes I had chosen long ago for our third anniversary, carefully applied makeup, and wore the jewelry that best suited the day.
With everything ready, I sat at the dining table, full of anticipation, waiting for Howard to return, imagining what a wonderful night it would be.
As time ticked by, my mood gradually sank.
I called Howard, sent him messages, tried every way to reach him, but all my efforts were in vain.
Feeling stifled, I opened the window for some air.
Situations like this were not uncommon in our years of marriage. I just didn't expect it to happen on our third anniversary, after he had promised me.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed with a notification. I thought it was him and eagerly checked my phone, only to find it was his ex-girlfriend, Elin Begum.
A bad feeling crept over me. I mustered the courage, my fingers trembling as I unlocked the phone.
She sent me a photo of Howard.
At that moment, Howard lay naked on a themed bed, his cheeks flushed.
I stared deeply at his face, utterly convinced that the best seven years of my life had gone to waste, yet the expected heartache never came.
My heart was unexpectedly calm.
In the dimly lit room, candles flickered softly. I sat on the sofa, silently contemplating the relationship between Howard and me, or rather, among Howard, Elin, and me.
Around six in the morning, I saw Elin's post on social media, "What's mine, no one could take away," accompanied by a picture of a necklace.
I looked at the image of the necklace, the slogan of the necklace that could only be custom-made once in a man's lifetime according to the rule of the boutique. I laughed with bitterness.
When we got married, I wanted Howard to give me such a necklace, but he refused to use his only one chance for it.
Perhaps it was time to end all of this.
"You're pathetic!" Brenden sneered, each word cutting deep into Corinna's heart. Years of emotional wounds had drained every ounce of love she once held. "I've wasted enough time on you. If there's a next life, I hope we never meet again." Her words severed the bond between them like a blade. From that moment on, Brenden was haunted by her absence—unable to sleep, longing for the warmth he took for granted.
After hiding her true identity throughout her three-year marriage to Colton, Allison had committed wholeheartedly, only to find herself neglected and pushed toward divorce. Disheartened, she set out to rediscover her true self-a talented perfumer, the mastermind of a famous intelligence agency, and the heir to a secret hacker network. Realizing his mistakes, Colton expressed his regret. "I know I messed up. Please, give me another chance." Yet, Kellan, a once-disabled tycoon, stood up from his wheelchair, took Allison's hand, and scoffed dismissively, "You think she'll take you back? Dream on."
Loraine was a dutiful wife to Marco since they got married three years ago. However, he treated her like trash. Nothing she did softened his heart. One day, Loraine got fed up with it all. She asked him for a divorce and left him to enjoy with his mistress. The elites looked at her like she was deranged. "Are you out of your mind? Why are you so willing to divorce him?" "It's because I need to return home to get a billion-dollar fortune. Besides, I don't love him anymore," Loraine replied with a smile. They all laughed at her. Some believed that the divorce affected her mentally. It wasn't until the next day that they realized she wasn't fibbing. A woman was suddenly declared the world's youngest female billionaire. It turned out to be Loraine! Marco was shocked to the bone. When he met his ex-wife again, she was a changed person. A group of handsome young men surrounded her. She was smiling at them all. The sight made Marco's heart ache severely. Putting his pride aside, he tried to win her back. "Hello, love. I see that you are a billionaire now. You shouldn't be with suckers who just want your money. How about you come back to me? I'm a billionaire too. Together, we can build a strong empire. What do you say?" Loraine squinted at her ex-husband with her lips curled in disgust.
After two years of marriage, Sadie was finally pregnant. Filled with hope and joy, she was blindsided when Noah asked for a divorce. During a failed attempt on her life, Sadie found herself lying in a pool of blood, desperately calling Noah to ask him to save her and the baby. But her calls went unanswered. Shattered by his betrayal, she left the country. Time passed, and Sadie was about to be wed for a second time. Noah appeared in a frenzy and fell to his knees. "How dare you marry someone else after bearing my child?"
"Ahh!" She was in a moaning mess. She did not want to feel anything for this man. She hated him. His hands began to move all over her body. She gasped when he pulled down the back chain of her dress. The chain stopped at her lower waist, so when he zipped it off, her upper back and waist were exposed. "D-Don't touch m-ummm!" His fingers rolled around her bare back, and she pressed her head against the pillow. His touches were giving her goosebumps all over her body. With a deep angry voice, he whispered in her ear, "I am going to make you forget his touches, kisses, and everything. Every time you touch another man, you will only think of me." - - - Ava Adler was a nerdy omega. People bullied her because they thought she was ugly and unattractive. But Ava secretly loved the bad boy, Ian Dawson. He was the future Alpha of the Mystic Shadow Pack. However, he doesn't give a damn about rules and laws, as he only likes to play around with girls. Ava was unaware of Ian's arrogance until her fate intertwined with his. He neglected her and hurt her deeply. What would happen when Ava turned out to be a beautiful girl who could win over any boy, and Ian looked back and regretted his decisions? What if she had a secret identity that she had yet to discover? What if the tables turned and Ian begged her not to leave him?
Due to the plight of her family, Phoebe had no choice but to embark on the path of selling herself. In an accident, she had a tangled night with Alexander. Everything began to derail, and even if she fled to the ends of the earth, she would still be found by him and entangled... *** Phoebe screamed in frustration, "What do you want from me?" What was this supposed to be? He raised an eyebrow wickedly. "What do I want? You'll find out soon enough." With that, he hoisted her up and carried her back into the office. The door slammed shut with a kick, and he cleared the desk with a sweep of his arm before laying her down on it, his body pinning hers in place, completely trapping her in his grasp. Every cell in his body was telling him he wanted her. He wanted to claim her again. This time, there would be no escape for her-he wouldn't let her slip away. Never again. If he had suffered for five years, then this woman wouldn't get off easily either!