What Is The Ending Of Declaration Of Sentiments About?

On the day of my wedding, my fiance suddenly announced that he had already registered his marriage with my sister. The system declared my mission a failure and sentenced me to be erased in a car crash. Just as despair closed in, Wayne Kinsey threw himself in front of me to save my life—and lost the use of his legs because of it. Later, I was given another chance to choose a new target, and I accepted his proposal. But five years into our marriage, I overheard a conversation between him and a friend. "Wayne, your crush already has a husband and children. Your legs are healed too. Aren't you going to come clean with Arden?" "No. Arden will always be a risk. Only if she keeps feeling guilty will she stay away and let Naomi have her happiness." As his familiar but cold voice echoed in my ears, my tears fell like beads of a broken string, and that was when I finally realized the so-called salvation Wayne had given me had been nothing but a lie through and through. In that case, there was no reason for me to keep holding on to this sham of a marriage.

To protect the assistant who had been evading taxes, she deliberately gave false testimony in her role as my superior's wife, putting all the blame on me. I protested endlessly, but the law held me accountable. I was imprisoned for two months. Upon release, my colleagues turned against me, ostracizing me and destroying my promotion chances. Seeing that I neither cried nor caused a scene, my wife assumed that I had finally submitted. She even threatened to make amends with a lavish wedding for me. However, during the wedding vows, the assistant, suddenly overtaken by jealousy, ran to the company rooftop and threatened my wife with suicide to force her to cancel the wedding. My wife, who had always been obedient to him, panicked. She abandoned everyone at the ceremony and spent the entire night comforting her assistant. Afterwards, she calmly explained: "Wilson is young and impulsive. I was just afraid he might get hurt. Besides, you were released from prison so early thanks to him. He helped a lot. By right, he's still your lifesaver. I couldn't just abandon him." I looked at the couple rings she had just put on her finger, let out a faint hum, and said nothing. She believed I accepted her excuse and was pleased, even making an unprecedented promise: once she had calmed the assistant, she would take me on a honeymoon. However, she seemed to have forgotten one thing. She had already signed the divorce papers, and I had filed a lawsuit in court to have the case heard. From that moment on, we were no longer husband and wife. We were only plaintiff and defendant.

Five years ago, my junior made a mistake in the experiment, resulting in an explosion in the lab. In an effort to save my childhood friend, Andrew, I suffered severe burns to one side of my face and was falsely accused as the culprit. Just like that, I became the target of everyone's anger. Only Andrew stood by me, promising, "I love you for who you are, not your appearance. I'll always be there to protect you." But on our wedding day, he vanished without a trace. My mother, suffering from heart disease and barely clinging to life, wanted to see Andrew. When I asked him to come, he replied impatiently, "Are you using such a lame excuse to meet me? Don't you have any shame? Every time I look at your face, I feel disgusting." I pleaded desperately, but he calmly hung up. "Do you think I'm your servant? You can't just summon me whenever you want. Just because you saved me once doesn't mean you can blackmail me for life." My mother died without peace. The junior who slandered me back then later posted a photo on social media, showing a man lifting her effortlessly. Their poses were intimate, highlighting the underlying affection. Her captions read: [It's all his fault for tiring me out during the day. I almost missed out on this beautiful ocean. When you're in love, all is clear to see. I mentioned wanting to go to Belmar Island, and he flew me around the world for it.] I was utterly heartbroken, so I texted him: [Let's break up…]

I've been in a secret relationship with Declan Gibson for five years, and I've tried to seduce him more times than I can count. Yet, when I stand in front of him in my birthday suit and a pair of bunny ears, all he does is worry that I'll catch a cold and wrap me in a blanket. I used to think his restraint came from being the mafia don, that he was saving our first time for our wedding night. However, one month before the ceremony, he secretly plans the city's grandest fireworks show to celebrate his childhood sweetheart's birthday. They hug and share a slice of cake in public. That night, they check into a hotel. … The next morning, I watch them leave together. That's when I realize Declan is not restrained. He just doesn't love me, so I walk out of the hotel. I call my parents. "Dad, I've broken up with Declan. I'll marry into the Sullivan family as planned." My father is stunned. "I thought you were madly in love with Declan. Why did you break up? I heard Bryson can't have children. You've always loved kids. What will you do once you marry him?" "It's fine," I reply, disheartened. "We can always adopt."

At the dinner celebrating our fifth wedding anniversary, I held the pregnancy test report in my pocket, planning to surprise my CEO husband. However, the moment the doors opened, I froze. A stunning woman stood there with her arm intimately linked through my husband's. She clung to Charles Lawrence with the ease and confidence of someone who clearly belonged at his side, carrying herself like the lady of the house. Neither Charles nor the guests found it strange. If anything, they seemed entertained. Someone even joked, "Mr. Lawrence and Ms. Cooper aren't just ideal partners at work. Their chemistry is something to admire as well. I've personally reserved the presidential suite at Jubilee City's finest resort for Mr. Lawrence tonight. You can be sure no one will disturb you." Fiona blushed and slipped shyly into Charles's arms. He lowered his head and kissed her hard. They fit together so naturally, so intimately, that the sight was unbearably glaring. My thoughts flashed back to the night before, when Charles had pressed me into the bed. In that moment, I had caught sight of a strange message sent by someone named Fiona: [Everyone in the company thinks we've slept together.] Charles had explained that Fiona was only his assistant, a forty-year-old woman, and that the message was nothing more than a punishment from a lost game, a foolish dare. That explanation had dissolved my suspicion and anger. Then, I finally saw the truth. I was the one who had lost everything. Inside my pocket, the pregnancy report was crushed into a tight ball. I forced the tears back, stepped away, and opened the invitation from the National Aerospace Research Institute on my phone. Without hesitation, I tapped Accept. Three days later, I would vanish completely from Charles's world.

On our wedding day, the big screen glitched—then flipped to kissing shots of Caleb Gorman and his "girl best friend," Holly Beech. Holly shot up, hand over her mouth, smiling all fake-innocent. "Relax, everyone. We were just messing around. Caleb and I go way back. Guess that makes me wife number two." Caleb smiled, soft like always. "That's just her. She's a total blabbermouth. Don't take it seriously." I looked at him. Calm. "She plays kissing pics of you two at our wedding and calls herself your 'wife number two.' That's messing around?" His face tightened. Annoyed. "It's a few photos. We've been together five years. You're really gonna nitpick something this small and not let it—" I raised a hand, cutting him off. "Yeah. I am. I'm not letting it go." That hit him. He wasn't used to me standing firm. I turned to the crowd. "This wedding's over."