How To Interpret 'He Said Divorce Was To Avoid My Labor Pain'?

“Just...I have one question before this,” I pretend to not see his hurtful look, keeping my eyes on his chest, “...Please.” Would it change anything if I’m pregnant? I want to ask, I don’t know how. Taking a deep breath, I look up, just to catch him rolling his eyes with a sigh: “I don’t have time for your games, Scar.” Home? I laugh bitterly. We don’t have a home anymore, Sebastian. I built one for us, and you broke it.

On my son Theo’s birthday, my husband Dashiell brought home his first love, Sabrina. My son was forgotten, I was ignored, and my mother-in-law treated me like a servant. Dashiell, instead of comforting me, declared that because Sabrina was dying of cancer, he would fake a divorce and marry her to fulfill her dying wish. I could no longer endure it—I decided to turn the “fake divorce” into a real one. Dashiell thought he had everything under control, but he underestimated me…

After five years of playing the perfect Mrs. Prescott, Lucille Sandwell finally woke up on the day of her daughter's one-month milestone. Her husband, Gideon Prescott, reserved all his tenderness and devotion for the woman he truly cared about, yet expected Lucille to remain mature, self-reliant, and endlessly understanding. In front of everyone, she flipped the table and said, "I want a divorce. I've had enough of this marriage." He responded with a cold laugh. "How did you become this vulgar? You throw around the word divorce at the slightest thing." Only after she disappeared did he realize that his world had begun to fall apart. Without her, everything went wrong. Three years later, they met again at an international summit. She returned as a celebrated master architect and stunned the entire room. Under the blaze of camera flashes, he dropped to his knees and begged her to come back. She only smiled and walked past him, another man at her side. Later, he received a gilded wedding invitation. The bride, dressed in white, leaned into the arms of his best friend. With red-rimmed eyes, he crashed the wedding. All he heard was her quiet voice. "Gideon, being the understanding one is exhausting. From now on, I only want to live for myself."

“Alexis wants a child before she dies, Sabrina. It’s her last wish. A baby. My baby.” “You are asking me,” I said, “your wife, to let you have a baby with another woman?” For three years, I was Nate Cooper's convenient wife—a marriage built on debt, obligation, and lies. I told myself I didn't need love. I told myself I could survive on scraps of affection. Then Nate came home and asked for the impossible. Heartbroken and carrying a child in secret of my own, I finally ask for a divorce. Before I can leave, Alexis frames me for a fire that nearly kills me and my unborn baby. When I wake up in the hospital, I learn a shocking truth. The powerful Atwood family has been searching for their missing daughter. Me. And Alexis Atwood? The woman who stole my husband and ruined my life is actually an imposter. Now my husband wants a second chance, and the brothers I never knew I had are ready to protect me at any cost. This time, I won't be the one begging to be chosen.

For five years, Elara loved Nathaniel Blackwood unconditionally. For three of those years, she was his wife, gentle, loyal, and invisible. He never loved her back. Cold, distant, and married only for convenience, Nathaniel always kept his heart reserved for one woman – his first love, the “white moonlight” he could never forget. When she returns, Elara is pushed aside without hesitation, when Nathaniel humiliates her in front of his first love and peers. While Nathaniel stands firmly by his first love, Elara finally walks away. What no one knows is that she leaves carrying his child. Disappearing without a word, she also sheds the identity of a powerless wife and awakens the truth she had hidden all along, she is the secret heiress of a powerful family, someone even the Blackwoods cannot afford to offend. When Nathaniel finally realizes what he has lost, regret drives him to his knees. But the woman he once ignored looks at him with cold indifference and says only one thing: “Too late, ex-husband. You lost me the moment you chose her.”

The seventh time Dante Moretti served me divorce papers, I was sitting with my son in a cheap diner on Chicago's South Side. I forced a smile and brushed my hand over my son's hair. "Just wait a little longer, sweetheart. This time, Mommy will get custody of you." He stayed quiet for a long moment. Then he looked up and asked, “Mommy, how much do you need to sell me for before you're happy?” Before I could answer, he pulled a handwritten divorce agreement from his backpack and pushed it toward me. "I know you keep fighting Dad for me because you want more money from him." "I wrote the agreement for him. Please sign it. Dad is already tired. Stop making his life so hard." His handwriting was crooked, but every word had been written with care. Dante would give me three million dollars. At the bottom, in my son's childish scrawl, was one more line. [After you take the money, don't bother me, Dad, and Serena anymore. Let us be happy.] Serena was Dante's childhood sweetheart. The woman he trusted more than his own wife. For five years, I had stood against Dante's family, his lawyers, and half the Chicago underworld just to keep custody of my son. For him, I would've walked away with nothing. But the child I had raised for eight years had already chosen another mother. So why shouldn't I give their perfect little family exactly what they wanted?