

Luna Baxter and Simon Fulmer have been married for five years. One day, she receives a provocative voice message and intimate photos from Simon's first love. They're sent from his phone, too. "I've only been back in the country for half a year, but he took the bait as soon as I laid it. He's prepared blue fireworks for me tonight, but I don't like the color blue. To avoid wastage, you can have them on your wedding anniversary." Luna and Simon's fifth wedding anniversary comes a month later. She looks out the window at the blue fireworks lighting up the sky. Then, her gaze lands on the empty seat across from her. Simon's first love challenges her again. She sends her a photo of them having a candlelight dinner. Luna doesn't cry or kick up a fuss. She silently signs a divorce agreement and asks Simon's secretary to prepare for a wedding. "What are the bride's and groom's names, Mrs. Fulmer?" "Simon Fulmer and Sophie Sutherland." Seven days later, she flies to Naavi to give them her blessings. She throws them a wedding.

On my wedding day, my fiance's first love appeared at the wedding ceremony wearing the exact same haute couture gown as mine. I watched them stand together at the entrance, greeting the guests as if they were the bride and groom. Maintaining a calm expression, I complimented them, saying they looked like the perfect couple—beauty and brains, a match made in heaven. She burst into tears and fled the scene. He, however, didn't hesitate to humiliate me in front of everyone, accusing me of being petty and narrow-minded. When the wedding banquet was over, he left for what was supposed to be our honeymoon—with her by his side. I didn't argue or cause a scene. Instead, I quietly booked an appointment for an abortion.

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.
![[ENG DUB] The Comments Said He Loved Me](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
I have a secret: I can see live comments! After scrolling past a video of a muscular man, my husband kicks me out of the car on the highway. The comments say "He's jealous! He totally loves you!" and "He just has that cold CEO syndrome". But when I'm badly injured in an accident, he allows his first love to spill hot soup at me,push me down the stairs, destroy my belongings,and be intimate with him countless times, and the comments are still celebrating. "Aloof now, chase later!" What they don't know is that from the first moment my heart turned cold, I've been calmly planning my escape. I hand him divorce papers and disappear completely, then remarry someone far above his station. No matter how he weeps in regret, I never look back.

I have a secret: I can see live comments! After scrolling past a video of a muscular man, my husband kicks me out of the car on the highway. The comments say "He's jealous! He totally loves you!" and "He just has that cold CEO syndrome". But when I'm badly injured in an accident, he allows his first love to spill hot soup at me,push me down the stairs, destroy my belongings,and be intimate with him countless times, and the comments are still celebrating. "Aloof now, chase later!" What they don't know is that from the first moment my heart turned cold, I've been calmly planning my escape. I hand him divorce papers and disappear completely, then remarry someone far above his station. No matter how he weeps in regret, I never look back.

For five years, I thought our marriage was solid. Then, my husband, Lionel Franco’s first love, Sandra Howard, posted a photo of a property deed on her social media. The caption read: [Thank you, Lionel, for transferring the house to me.] I stared in disbelief and left a single comment: [WTF?] Lionel called within minutes. “She’s a struggling single mother. Transferring the house to her makes it easier for her son to get into school. It doesn’t affect where we live,” he snapped. “How can you be so lacking in compassion?” In the background, I heard her muffled sobs. Half an hour later, she tagged me in another post. This time, she flaunted her Mercedes worth over a million dollars, with the caption: [Paid in full. As the saying goes, ‘Where a man spends his money, that's where his heart is’.] I knew he bought it to soothe her temper. But this time, I had enough. I decided to divorce him.

After our eighty-eighth canceled wedding, I called my business partner. "I'm taking the Haviana market project." There was a beat of stunned silence. "Seriously? That's ten years overseas. You just got married—well, weren't you? Does your husband even know? What about your parents? You always said staying close to them was everything." I glanced around the empty church and let out a sharp laugh. "There was no wedding. No husband. And my parents? They've got Cindy. That's all they need." Another pause. "Alright. Pack your bags. You leave tomorrow." After the call, I ran a hand down my wedding dress. One last tear slipped out, quiet and pointless. Cindy had another "episode" today. Claimed she'd off herself. Andrew canceled—again. I'd looked at him, drained. "It's the eighty-eighth time." He dropped his head, guilt all over him. "Just a little more time, Viv. She's been off since the accident. I'm scared she'll actually do it. I swear, I'll talk to her. For real this time. Then we'll get married. Promise." My parents didn't hesitate. "Vivian, let Andrew go. If Cindy hadn't gotten kidnapped trying to save you, she wouldn't have these breakdowns. Are you really putting a wedding over your sister's life?" "How could you be so selfish?" I'd heard it all before. Used to fight it. Not this time. If neither my fiancé nor my parents wanted me around, then fine. I'd leave.

After eight years of marriage, Marvin discovered that his wife Hannah’s eight “miscarriages” had all been a lie. Her ninth pregnancy wasn’t his child—it was Jack’s, her adopted brother’s. She had only gotten pregnant to give birth to a child who could save Jack’s life.Heartbroken and betrayed, Marvin signed the divorce papers and accepted a position in a top-secret national project, ready to disappear from her world forever.But before he left, Hannah forced him to kneel, slapped him across the face, and even threatened him with his grandfather’s safety. For three days, he endured everything in silence.On the day he walked away, Marvin removed his wedding ring and never looked back.Only after Jack’s lies were exposed did Hannah finally realize what she had lost. But by then, Marvin’s phone number was no longer reachable—and the man who once loved her had vanished forever.

The day before Valentine's Day, I handed my leave request to my fiancé and boss, Daniel Harrison. We were supposed to get married at City Hall on Valentine's Day. He glanced at it, set it down on his desk, and did not sign. "Megan already booked her flight to Miami, and the hotel is non-refundable. I need you to cover for her for a few days. I am going to Miami to meet some clients anyway, so I will keep an eye on her while I am there." He looked up at me and softened his tone slightly, like he was trying to soothe me. "Getting married can wait until I get back. A few more days will not make a difference." His voice was casual, as if he were arranging something he already knew I would accept. Megan stood beside him and lowered her head. "I am so sorry, Alessandra. I did not realize your plans were that important." Then she added, "Daniel said you would understand. You always put the company first." She leaned slightly toward Daniel. The colleagues at their desks looked down at their screens. No one said a word. I watched Daniel. He was already scrolling through his phone, checking flight details. He did not look at me again. He did not know that the Valentine's Day we had agreed on was the deadline set by the De Luca family. If I was not married by the end of February, I would have to go back and accept the marriage they had arranged for me. I did not argue. I took off my badge and signed the resignation letter. Then I picked up my phone and called my grandfather, Enzo De Luca. "Grandfather, I give up. I will accept the marriage."