

Trusting a scumbag, Shannon Clarke not only lost her baby but was also forced to donate her cornea to her husband's first love. The constant heartbreak woke her up. Shannon: "Let’s... get a divorce!"

Husband prefers secretary, who looks like his white moonlight, over his wife Iris. Calmly, Iris asks for a divorce, revealing that the baby she's carrying isn't his. Five years later, she returns powerfully with her new flame, while Husband is left drowning in regret.

Innocent college student Liam Harper wakes up to discover he’s transmigrated into the body of billionaire CEO Clare Sullivan’s husband. He thinks he can coast on his wife’s wealth, but quickly learns the original owner was an absolute scumbag—a gambler,thief, and cheater who even had an affair with Clare’s younger sister, Jade Sullivan! When the manipulative Jade openly provokes her, Clare finally gives up and throws down divorce papers. In that critical moment, Liam explodes into action! He tears up the divorce agreement, kicks Jade out of the house, and grabs Clare’s hand with genuine sincerity: “Honey, don’t cry—I’m not divorcing you!”

I’ve always felt like Travis Chancer was forced to marry me. Every time we were intimate at night, he’d rather use his hand to get me off than actually have sex with me. I got more and more disappointed and decided to divorce him. But the night before I printed the papers, I heard him on the balcony talking to his buddies. “Bro, I’m not trying to be nosy, but you’re obviously dying for it. Why won’t you touch her? The perfect woman is right there. It must feel amazing.” “Women can’t stand being ignored. If you keep bottling it up, she’ll eventually run off with another man, and you’ll regret it.” He took a quiet sip of whiskey. “But her skin is so delicate, and her waist is so slim… she’s so sensitive. What if I lose control and scare her? “She’s my woman. I have to be careful. If she wants to find comfort elsewhere, she can. As long as she’s still willing to come home, I’ll keep spoiling her.” They snorted. “Don’t act like a saint, man. If you’ve got the guts, stop secretly posting on Reddit.” Late that night, I quietly opened Travis’s browser history. A full hundred entries. The pinned post read: “I finally married the girl I’ve loved for years, but I have a very high sex drive. How can I make her enjoy it without leaving psychological scars?”…

After ten years of marriage, Mackenzie Dye pours her entire heart into her family. For her husband Clint Knowles and their young son Axton, she willingly strips away her former glory to become an unassuming housewife.Yet her daily sacrifices and compromises bring not her husband's tender care but his constant coldness. The son she raises with painstaking effort remains distant and indifferent toward her. This marriage she desperately tries to preserve resembles a fragile bubble—one gust of wind reveals countless cracks. Just as Mackenzie grits her teeth and summons her last reserves of strength to hold the family together, Clint's childhood sweetheart April Sampson returns to the country in high-profile fashion.

When Elijah cheated, I didn’t cry or make a scene. I pretended not to know. When he kept Naomi on the side, I forced down the pain and endured it. After all, I had a lovely son with Elijah. He loved me, and I wanted to give him a complete family. It wasn’t until the day I found out that my son, Kai, had gone with Elijah to that other home and was calling Aunt Naomi with affection that I stopped wanting to endure it any longer. I told my childhood friend that I wanted a divorce. He looked at me deeply, saying, “Hazel, everyone in Neopolis knows that Elijah loves you with his life. His influence covers the entire city. Leaving him won’t be easy.” However, I replied numbly, “Then let Hazel die. Let her die in front of Elijah. Let him watch his wife disappear with his own eyes. From that moment on, there will be no more Hazel Foster in this world.” When I learned that Kai preferred Naomi, I realized that the past two years of endurance had been nothing but a joke. This time, I don’t want either my husband or my son anymore.

After suffering aphasia from a car accident, Heather Phillips is devastated when her husband William Manning asks for a fake divorce to appease his mistress. Taking him at his word, Heather makes it real. Sebastian Hart, heir to the Hart Group, flies back immediately upon hearing the news and proposes to Heather. She leaves with him without looking back, leaving William filled with regret.

Just back from abroad, Thalia Prince receives a marriage certificate from her mother—tying her to a man rumored to have a terrible reputation. Determined to secure a quick divorce, she impulsively spends the night with a supposed escort, only to discover that he is actually her husband…

When Adriano Morelli realized I hadn’t submitted a single household request in three days, he called me himself for the first time in months. “Serafina,” he said, his voice smooth and patient, “the clinic has been cleared. Your file is back on priority. See? When you stop making things difficult and learn how this family works, I make sure you’re taken care of.” He always sounded the gentlest when he was reminding me who held the power. What he didn’t know was that by the time his name lit up my screen, the divorce papers were already drafted. From the outside, I had everything a woman could want: a guarded penthouse, a driver on call, designer clothes, and the last name of one of the most feared men in the city. But almost none of it was mine. The cards were monitored. Cash had to be approved. Staff took Viviana Costa’s orders before they ever listened to me. Even the wardrobe budget, my schedule, and access to the family office all ran through her hands. Adriano called it convenience. Three days ago, I was rushed into a private clinic, blood soaking through my dress, while a doctor told me there was still a chance to save the baby if the emergency deposit was paid immediately. I called Adriano until my hands shook. Viviana stalled the transfer. First there was no direct authorization. Then the amount was too large. Then Adriano was in a meeting and could not be disturbed over something that might not be serious. By the time the money came through, it was too late. The baby was gone. I had stayed with Adriano for two reasons: I loved him, and I believed that when it truly mattered, he would choose me. I was wrong about both. Our child died first. My marriage died with it.

When I was seven years old, a handsome man Mom brought home gave me a box of mangoes. That day, Dad watched me happily eating the mangoes as he signed his name on the divorce agreement. Then, he jumped to his death. From that day on, mangoes became a lifelong nightmare for me. So, on our wedding day, I told my wife, Irene Johnson, "If you ever want a divorce, just give me a mango." She held me without saying a word. From that moment on, mangoes became forbidden for her as well. … On the fifth Christmas Eve after we got married, Irene's childhood sweetheart, Steven Carter, placed a mango on her desk. That same day, she announced that she was cutting ties with him and fired him from the company. That day, I felt that she was the woman destined for me. ... Six months later, I return from overseas after closing a billion-dollar deal. At the celebration dinner, Irene hands me a drink. After I drink half of it, Steven, the man who was kicked out of the company, stands behind me and grins. "Is the mango juice good?" he asks. I look at Irene in disbelief, but she is holding back a laugh. "Don't be mad. Steve insisted I play a joke on you. I didn't give you a mango, just a bottle of its juice. "But I think Steve is right. There's something wrong with you for not eating mangoes. Look at how much you enjoyed it just now!" she says. I keep a cold expression, raise my hand, and splash the remaining mango juice onto her face. Then, I turn and walk away. Some things are never a joke. Mangoes aren't, and neither is my decision to divorce.