

Every April Fools' Day, my boyfriend joined his childhood friend in the same cruel prank, pretending to propose to me. Last year, I slipped the ring onto my finger, my heart full of hope. Suddenly, the mechanism snapped tight. Pain shot through my hand, and I cried out. He apologized afterward and promised that, this year, the proposal would be real. As such, I arrived carefully dressed, believing him. Instead, I was met with a face full of cake. He reached out gently, wiping the cream from my face as if it were nothing more than a harmless joke. However, this time, I took a step back. After six disappointments, I chose to walk away. So why was it that, in the end, he was the one consumed by regret?

Nora Whitman had been in love with New York lawyer Elliott Mercer for seven years, but on their wedding day she discovered that he had kept a flirtatious voice message from his young assistant, Tessa. Confronted with Nora’s ultimatum—“If you leave now, don’t come back to marry me”—Elliott still rushed off to comfort Tessa, who claimed she was having a panic attack. Nora stopped waiting and publicly called off the wedding. Soon after, Elliott’s father was hospitalized from the shock. At the hospital, Nora discovered she was pregnant, only to see Elliott continue protecting Tessa. She refused to reconcile, packed her things, and left, but amid the relentless emotional and physical trauma, she lost the baby. It was only after Nora completely refused to forgive him that Elliott admitted he had not been without a choice: he enjoyed being needed by Tessa, and he had been certain Nora would always be there waiting for him. Nora moved to London and resumed the career she had once set aside for him, growing from a crisis PR consultant into a strategist who could hold her own. Three years later, they met again at an old café in New York. Elliott finally admitted that he had taken her love for granted, treating it as something that would never disappear. But Nora no longer needed this belated regret. She said goodbye to the past and finally understood that a complete life is not about waiting for someone to choose you, but about no longer giving up yourself for love.

My daughter, Ruby Pratt, has leukemia. She needs a bone marrow transplant—and fast. Out of everyone in the family, my husband, Dan Pratt, was the only match. I begged him for an entire month before he finally agreed to go through with the donation. But on the morning of the surgery, he went completely off the grid. I stood outside the hospital all day, waiting. No calls. No texts. Not even a shadow. That night, his childhood friend, Valerie Kinder, posted on Instagram. In the photo, Dan was holding Valerie's hand with one arm and carrying her young son with the other—on a beach in Lulabo City. The caption read: [Soaking up the sun! Dan cleared his whole schedule to join us on a month-long trek and we finally made it to the coast! My little boy said Uncle Dan made his ocean dream come true. Pure joy!] My heart splintered. While I was drowning in worry over my daughter, he was off playing happy family with them. I wiped my tears and typed a comment beneath her post: [Not 'Uncle.' From now on, he's your son's father.] That night, I finally got a call from him. "Babe, don't be like this," Dan said. "You're not being fair. "Valerie's son has been bullied at school for not having a dad. I couldn't stand seeing him hurt, so I took them on this trip. It was supposed to help him heal. "I'll catch the first flight back tomorrow and head straight to the hospital to donate the marrow. I promise." I hung up with a bitter smile. The next morning, Dan rushed into the hospital room. But all he found on the bed was a death certificate.

After dying alone, regretful father Christian wakes up twenty years in the past and chooses his neglected daughter, Willow, over the manipulative widow Joslyn. Rebuilding his life through his culinary talent, he opens a restaurant, defeats greedy rivals, and finally finds the woman his family always needed.

I was the most spoiled little princess in the shifter world, because I had four powerful daddies. Darius is the head of the Dragon clan, and the King who rules over the entire shifter world. The other three are the heads of the Lion clan, the Serpent clan, and the Eagle clan. Everyone fears their power. My mother was their childhood sweetheart. When she was killed by rogue wolves, they found me still barely breathing inside her, and saved my life. The four of them spoiled me rotten. Whatever I looked at twice, it would be sitting in front of me by the next morning. Every girl in the shifter world envied me. Until the year I turned sixteen, when Vivian came back. She was the daughter of their first love. From that day on, my four daddies were completely different. Vivian cried to Daddy Darius and said I'd pushed her down the stairs. Without a single question, he threw me in a cell, bound my wrists in silver chains, and made me kneel on broken silver shards for seven straight days. Then she went to Daddy Orion and said I'd stolen the necklace her mother left her. So Daddy Orion melted down the only ring my mother ever left me and had it remade into a necklace for her. The last time, Vivian stabbed herself and cried that I'd tried to kill her. Daddy Rex didn't even ask. He just sentenced me to four years in the silver prison. The silver prison holds the worst criminals in the shifter world. The guards whipped me with silver every day, forced me to wash everyone's clothes, and some weeks I went days without a bite of food. Today, when my door got kicked open again, I was huddled in the corner shaking. I hadn't eaten in two days. Then I heard the Moon Goddess's gentle voice. “Child, do you want to leave here and go back to your mother?

To get a divorce from Dante Conti, I volunteered to walk away with nothing—even our three-year-old son. Seeing that I had deliberately changed back into the old clothes I wore before marriage, Dante froze for a moment, then sneered, "So? You don't even want Nico, the heir you fought so hard to give birth to?" "Careful. Play your part too long, and you won't be able to recover the scene," he warned. I pushed the signed agreement toward him. "Don't worry. This isn't acting." Dante shot me a puzzled look before signing his name. "So obedient? Fine. I'll be magnanimous and let you see Nico from time to time." He set down the pen, his gaze appraising me. "And if you regret it… come to me now, and maybe—just maybe—we could remarry—" I cut him off, standing and walking away without a word. He had thought I married him for the Mafia's power, that's why I had given him an heir to inherit his family. But once he knows I'm dead, there will be no more misunderstandings.

A night security job at a museum seems like the easiest money Jorden Leon has ever made. But on his very first shift, he discovers that the museum's relics are anything but ordinary. Driven by instinct, he restores a shattered Eight-Armed Asura bronze statue. As the final crack disappears, an ancient force surges into him, awakening powers beyond imagination. Unaware that he has just prevented an S-Class catastrophe capable of destroying the city, Jordan steps into a new destiny. Soon, whispers spread through the city of a mysterious guardian who protects the living from dangers buried deep in the past.

Two years into her marriage with Allen Howell, Isabel Lawson has a dream. Tomorrow, her husband will meet his soulmate. They’ll share a passionate night together, and from that moment on, Allen will shower this woman with everything—bidding millions on jewelry at auctions, gifting her the designer clothes and luxury bags that once belonged to Isabel. In the dream, Isabel desperately fights to save her crumbling marriage, using every trick against the mistress, only to be abandoned by her husband and die miserably in a psychiatric hospital. The first thing Isabel does when she wakes up is to slap her husband three times, and the plan begins…

All because I talked to a girl from school, my parents decided I was too young to date and sent me to a behavioral correction camp over winter break. I spent 14 days there before they came for me. When Mom reached for my backpack, I flinched and dropped to my knees. "Mom, I'm sorry. I'll carry my own things. Please don't touch me. You're the opposite sex." Her expression soured. "I told you to watch out for girls out there, not treat your own mother like one of them." I kept my head down and said nothing, because responding to the opposite sex was also a violation. On the drive home, Dad noticed me sitting rigid and perfectly still. He laughed, pleased. "Look at him. He's so well-behaved now." "It worked even better than I expected. We'll have our family dinner tonight and send him back in the morning. They need to straighten him out for good." I said nothing. I just turned and looked out the window. There would be no tomorrow. Tonight was my farewell gift to them.