Can 'I Give Up The Treatment Not Them' Improve Relationships?

The night before the study abroad application deadline, the class group chat blew up. [Oh my God, Ryan, why did you switch your application to the UK? Weren’t you supposed to go to France with Emma Bennett?] Ryan Hawthorne replied like it was nothing. [Yeah, I changed it. She has my login anyway.] [Once she sees it, she’ll switch too. She always follows me around. She can’t function without me.] I stood there with my phone in my hand, my mind going completely blank. Scattered across the floor, half tucked between my open suitcases, was the gift I had prepared especially for Ryan. I left the group chat, threw the gift away, and never opened the application portal again. What he did not know was this. He could give up the future we were supposed to share for Sophie Quinn. And I could give him up too. I could choose my own future without ever looking back. All those late nights, all those years of work, had never been only for him.

Scarlett, chief healer of Silver Moon Pack, has spent three years using her blood therapy to keep her mate, Alexander, alive through every Blood Moon. But on the night she returns with the only cure that can save him, Alexander steals it and gives it to his ex, Victoria. Heartbroken, Scarlett cuts off every privilege his family enjoyed under her name and files for mate bond severance. Without her, Alexander’s strength collapses, his family’s debts are exposed, and Victoria’s rogue-pack ties come to light. In the end, Scarlett rejects Alexander and finally reclaims her life.

A car accident left me with severe brain injuries. I was left hanging by a thread. My wife, a renowned medical genius, personally operated on me for 18 consecutive hours, pulling me back from death's grasp. Yet, the first words I said to her after waking up were, "Grace, I want a divorce." Her eyes were filled with tears. "Derek, I just saved your life, and now, you want to leave me? Is it because I've been too busy at the hospital? Because I haven't spent enough time with you?" I frowned. "It's exactly because you saved me that I want this divorce. I won't let you sacrifice your reputation for me." The family elders tried to reason with me. "Grace is such a wonderful wife. She takes care of everything and loves you deeply. Why insist on a divorce? Why throw away such happiness?" No matter who approached me, I dismissed them with the same response. "If you think she's so perfect, then she'll be available once we're divorced." The elders were furious. "Fine! Get your divorce! But don't come crying to us when you regret it!" I whispered under my breath, "The only thing I regret is not divorcing her sooner."

My seven-year-old son, Matthew Hayes, needs an Rh-negative blood transfusion very badly because he's gotten roped into a car accident. I roll up my sleeve immediately. "Take my blood, doctor! I have Rh-negative blood!" But my husband, Samuel Hayes, grabs my hand tightly. "Hold on, let me call another person! She also has Rh-negative blood!" I throw the divorce agreement at his face instead. "If she wants to donate her blood, she can go ahead and do that right after you sign this divorce agreement!" Samuel clutches the agreement angrily. "Have you gone nuts, Naomi Hart? Our son is waiting to be saved right now, and yet you're bringing up divorce at this time?" I gaze at him coldly. "That's right." My mother-in-law, Evelyn Shaw, rushes over and slaps me at that moment. "You vile woman! Samuel is worried about your physique, and yet you still kick up a fuss over this matter!" I don't bother dodging the slap. Then, I walk over to the doorway of the operating theater before announcing, "Doctor, stop all of your surgical preparations! As the patient's family, I refuse to donate my blood, and I refuse to let my son undergo the surgery!" Both Samuel and Evelyn are stunned by my declaration. Samuel points at me and yells in a quivering tone, "Back then, you almost died in the hospital just to secure Matthew's life! Are you trying to kill him now, Naomi?" I just look at Samuel emotionlessly. Heck, I can't be bothered to even show an expression right now. "I never forgot about those times. But that was in the past. Now, I don't want Matthew anymore."

I'm diagnosed with a rare, incurable disease. A wonder drug that is being auctioned off is my last chance at survival. However, upon winning the bid for the said drug, my parents hand it to my older cousin, Annie Harper, who is suffering from infertility instead. This time, I will not make a fuss. I will even purchase a variety of supplements for Annie. My fiance tells me that Annie deserves to be married off splendidly. He wants to give his wedding gifts, which were originally meant for me, to her instead. I consent willingly. On top of that, I transfer both the house and the car he purchased for me to Annie. My parents have relief and delight written on their faces. "You've finally grown up and understood that Annie needs this medication more than you do because she's getting married." My dad says, "Once I've attended the medical symposium for rare diseases and completed the dissection of a patient's cadaver, I will be able to develop a cure for you." Nonetheless, seven days later, I have become the cadaver meant to be cut open by my father. My primary physician calls my father out in public at the symposium, pointing him out as an unethical doctor who gave my life-saving medication to Annie. My parents and boyfriend are criticized by the audience for being murderers. Yet, they firmly believe that this is how I'm getting back at them. They intend to reveal my memories to the public so that everyone learns that I deserved to die.

My husband, Chandler Goodwin, claims that he doesn't understand what the phrases "silent treatment" or "giving the cold shoulder" mean. Yet, in the three years we have been married, he has never once spoken to me sweetly. The first time we have a falling out, I remain proud and dignified. We end up ignoring each other for seven days straight. The seventh time we have a cold standoff, I start to panic a little. However, despite trying all sorts of methods, he doesn't back down. The 11th time it happens, I have already learned to work through my emotions myself. Chandler doesn't even need to say anything before I take the initiative to apologize first. I simply think that he's just a naturally indifferent person, that nobody can warm his stone-cold heart. Then, on the third year of our marriage, I accidentally ruin his dress shirt while ironing it. Chandler doesn't say a word, but that very night, he packs his things and moves into a hotel. On the third day of being blocked, I head to his company with a handwritten apology. While passing by his office, I spot him leaning over to shoot his angry assistant a doting smile. "I'm sorry for raising my voice at you just now and upsetting you. It's been 57 minutes since you started ignoring me. Please stop giving me the cold shoulder, alright?" I freeze on the spot, the apology letter in my hand practically burning my fingers. As it turns out, it's not that he doesn't know what the silent treatment means—it's just that I've never been the person he wants to coax.