How Does 'I Won’T Come Back' End?

I gave him nine years. Nine years of stretching every coin, raising our son alone, sleeping on my side of the bed because I could not bring myself to take his. Nine years of telling Dave his father was working hard so they could have a better life. I believed it myself. Until I saw him on a public street with his hand on another woman’s waist, looking at her the way I spent nine years waiting for him to look at me. When he crossed the pavement it was not to apologise. It was to tell me she was his wife. Six months married. He told me to keep things calm, walked back to her, and introduced me as his cousin. The divorce papers came that same night. I needed a job immediately. For my son. For the bills that would not wait for me to finish falling apart. So I pulled myself together the way I always do and kept moving. I did not expect Mac Harlow. I did not expect him to run three blocks to return my dropped folder or offer me a job despite his sister’s calls to have me removed. I did not expect his daughter to find my son within ten minutes and decide they were already family. I did not expect to discover that the man I was starting to trust was connected to everything I was trying to leave behind. He did not know. I believe that. But Marshall knows now that someone else sees what he threw away. And he wants it back. He is nine years too late. Mac is looking at me like I am worth staying for. Not fixing. Not managing. Staying for. I spent nine years being someone’s afterthought. Never again.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

She risked her life to save her husband. But when she opened her eyes… he had already left her behind. Her face was ruined. Her marriage was over. And the child she gave birth to… was not the one his family wanted. They thought her life was finished. They were wrong. Because the woman they cast aside… will return. Not as the abandoned wife— but as the nightmare that will make them regret everything.

On my wedding day, my fiancé and my younger sister Rachel were caught doing the dirty in the private lounge. I immediately became a laughing stock, until my childhood friend Jason Law publicly proposed to me, defending my honor. After we got married, he was the perfect husband… except for his performance in the bedroom. It was like his heart was never in it. I only managed to get pregnant after going for IVF this year. After that, he became even more protective of me. I once believed he was my sanctuary… until I overheard his conversation with his friend. “You’re ruthless, Jason. Nina’s so good to you. How could you swap out her egg with Rachel’s just because Rachel is too afraid of the pain to give birth? “The baby’s due in two months. What do you plan to do then?” Jason was silent for a bit, then he sighed. “I’ll give Rachel the baby once it’s born. It’s one of her greatest wishes, after all. “As for Nina, I’ll tell her the baby died. “I’ll make it up to her by staying with her for the rest of her life.” So that was how it was. He only protected me so gently for her sake. I turned around and immediately made a surgery appointment. I was throwing away this filthy baby… and this false marriage.

"Yuliana, are you really moving abroad? You're not even going to talk it over with Charlie?" Madelyn Gardner asks. Yuliana Beckett lets out a self-mocking laugh. "We're already divorced." "You got a divorce?" Madelyn gasps, staring at Yuliana in disbelief. "Charlie actually agreed to that? After everything you've done for him these past three years, even a heart of stone would've softened by now." Madelyn speaks up for Yuliana, indignant on her behalf. But it's only after Yuliana boards her flight and leaves the country that Charlie Zimmer finally realizes what he's lost. He chases her across the ocean like a man possessed. In the face of his remorse, Yuliana has only one thing to say. "I don't love you anymore."

I woke up in the middle of the night to find my wife crying and begging me to let her see that young man one last time. "I’ll come right back after seeing him one last time. Please, I’m begging you." In our seven years of marriage, this was only the second time she’d spoken to me in such a pleading, ingratiating tone. The last time was when I caught the kid running out of her office, his clothes in disarray. Afraid I’d make a scene, she grabbed my hand and pleaded, "Honey, I promise I’ll cut him off. Please don’t divorce me. I’ll die without you." So, I gave her another chance. Just as she promised, she devoted herself to our family, becoming the perfect wife everyone admired. Until today. I turned on the bedside lamp, looked into her eyes, and told her seriously, "Go. Don’t leave yourself with any regrets." I had no regrets left. I hoped the same for you.

On the night of our ninth wedding anniversary, my husband—Damian Grant, the man who ruled the mafia by day and once ruled my heart by night—did not bring me roses. He gave the bouquet that should have been mine to Serena Lane, his personal assistant. Beneath the chandelier where we once danced on our wedding night, he turned to me with that same cold charm he once used to whisper sweet nothings in my ear. “She's pregnant.” Finally, everything fell into place. “She's a picky eater. From today onward, you’ll cook three meals a day for her. And no repeats. “She’s sensitive and hates sleeping alone, so you’ll need to move your things into the guest room.” The room fell silent. I did not raise my voice, nor did I shed a single tear. I simply picked up my packed suitcase and walked to the door. The butler tried to stop me, but Damian did not even blink. “She’ll come back.” He lazily swirled the wine in his glass. “She’ll come back crying and begging within three days.” Our guests burst out laughing. They placed a million-dollar bet right in front of me. They were betting on whether I would be back before the night was over, begging Damian to let me back in like a pathetic stray dog with my tail between my legs. However, they did not know I had already received the family heirloom from my real father. I booked my flight to get far, far away from everyone I used to know. This time, I really left.