My parents fought like cats and dogs, but they stayed married out of sheer habit. They’d built a life together—mortgage, kids, shared friends—and unraveling that seemed exhausting. There was also this unspoken rule: 'You don’t quit.' They treated marriage like a job they’d committed to, even if it made them miserable. I remember asking my mom once why they didn’t split, and she just shrugged, 'Where would I go?' It wasn’t hatred keeping them together; it was inertia. They’d forgotten how to be individuals outside the marriage. The irony? Their fights became a weird kind of intimacy. Arguing was the only time they really engaged with each other. It’s sad, but some people would rather have conflict than silence.
Growing up, I noticed my parents barely spoke unless it was to argue. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, yet they stayed together for decades. I think it boiled down to fear—fear of being alone, fear of financial instability, or maybe even fear of what people would say. They came from a generation where divorce was taboo, so they gritted their teeth and endured. Their shared history, like raising kids or owning a home, became chains instead of bonds. It wasn’t love holding them together; it was obligation and stubbornness. Looking back, I wish they’d prioritized happiness over appearances, but I also understand how societal pressure can warp decisions.
What’s wild is how they’d still perform ‘unity’ at family events—smiling for photos while seething underneath. It taught me a lot about performative relationships. Sometimes, people stay because leaving feels like admitting failure, and that’s a harder pill to swallow than daily misery.
Religion played a huge role in my parents’ marriage. They believed divorce was a sin, so they stayed together despite the resentment festering between them. Every argument ended with, 'God hates a quitter,' which felt more like a threat than comfort. They slept in separate rooms, ate meals in silence, and only interacted when necessary. It was like watching two roommates who despised each other but were stuck in a lease. I used to wonder if they ever loved one another, or if it was just societal expectations that pushed them into marriage young. Their dynamic made me skeptical of traditional institutions—why suffer just to check a box? It’s strange how people can become prisoners of their own beliefs, choosing misery over the unknown.
Money kept my parents tied together. They couldn’t afford to live apart, so they coexisted in this tense détente. The house was divided into 'his zones' and 'her zones,' and they avoided crossing into each other’s territories. They’d occasionally snipe about bills or chores, but mostly, they ignored each other. It wasn’t hatred so much as apathy—they’d given up trying to fix things. I think they stayed because starting over at their age felt impossible. The older I get, the more I realize how many couples are just… stuck. Not out of love or even hate, but practicality. Sometimes marriage isn’t about feelings; it’s about survival.
2026-05-30 04:53:55
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I Married My Father's Enemy
Swiftpen123
10
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"How can I marry a man I do not know?"
"Your father is the one who decides what can happen."
"Why do I have to marry him?"
"Your father wants to do business with him, and it is so much that it would take us from top twenty to top ten."
Nirelle’s fate is sealed. After a life of endless scrubbing, suffering, and silence, her father decides her worth lies in securing a business deal. A deal so massive, it promises to thrust their family into elite status—at the cost of her freedom.
Married off to a man cloaked in more secrets than the night sky, Nirelle wants to run. But there's nowhere to go. With every ounce of strength she has left, she chooses to shift prisons—from her father’s oppressive home to her new husband’s mansion.
Lucien Vexley is nothing like she expected. The name alone strikes fear on the streets, the rumours painting him as a shadowy, ruthless enigma. Yet the man sitting across from her at the dining table, caring for her in ways she’s never known, is nothing like the beast they described.
Lucien is a mystery she can’t seem to solve, and worse, he is her father's enemy.
"You are handsome?"
"It seems you were expecting me to be a beast?"
"Well, according to the rumours,"
"Am I not here as a scapegoat for something?"
Nirelle doesn’t understand the warmth beginning to stir in her chest, the way her stomach flutters when he's near. But something is changing. Something deep. Something dangerous. And she can't help it when she wants to join hands with him to take her father down.
Sold to My Father's Enemy is a revenge tale that would keep you at the edge of your seats.
(Warning: Mature Content. Rated 18+)
In a world where supernatural creatures dwell in secret, a half-vampire, half-human girl's life is thrown upside down when a reckless night ends in a scandalous one-night affair with her worst enemy—the pompous alpha of her school. Despite their strong dislike for each other, they are forced into an arranged marriage. However, while they live together, an undeniable attraction develops between them.
As dark secrets and frightening opponents surface, she must face the truth: is he her enemy, or her soulmate? Can she break the bond that keeps them together... before it is too late?
THIS NOVEL IS DIVIDED INTO TWO PARTS
PART 1: THE NIGHT THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING (Main story)
PART 2: THE LONG DISTANCE STRAIN
I met Oleg in junior school, and we clicked right away. Despite our fathers being rival mafia bosses, we never fell apart. But my feelings for Oleg changed with age. I felt frightened because I was torn between the comforts of friendship and the thrill of something more.
My dad was very homophobic, so it was even more difficult to express how I felt. I was faced with wanting to be truthful but endangering our families’ fragile peace So, my feelings stayed hidden, and I was just happy to be with Oleg.
Yet I couldn’t help but hope that Oleg would feel the same. Perhaps he was too scared to say anything. That hint of hope was what gave me the courage to take action.
And I did but things went terribly wrong. our worlds collided and exploded. It left us with nothing but hatred and resentment between our families. If I could turn back time, I would be content with the friendship we once shared, not the hurt and anger which we now have.
We parted ways with hatred in our hearts,a wound that never healed,years later,our path crossed again......
I married him without love. I never knew he despised me… or that I would be blamed for a tragedy I didn’t cause. In a house full of secrets and lies, can I survive a husband who sees me as his enemy and maybe, just maybe, make him love me?
I died in the year my husband hated me most.
Unable to endure his endless silent treatment any longer, I swallowed a bottle of pills and ended my life.
At the crematorium, watching the flames roar inside the furnace, he allowed himself a rare smile.
“Someone as vile as her doesn’t deserve to be laid to rest whole.”
So when the staff handed him the urn, he flipped it over.
My ashes scattered across the floor in an instant.
All this time, he had believed I was responsible for the death of his first love.
That belief was why he had schemed and plotted for years, all for this precise moment of final desecration.
When it was over, he stepped over my ashes and walked away without looking back.
Though not long after that, he fell to his knees and begged the crematorium to give my ashes back to him.
My wife has long yearned for a child. One day, she finally becomes pregnant after spending the night with a college student.
Overjoyed, she plans to keep it a secret until the baby is born.
However, at the hospital, I catch her red-handed.
Losing control, I demand to know why she would betray me, especially after all the billion-dollar deals I've secured for her.
Without a flicker of remorse, she hands me the divorce papers.
"You're infertile, and my desire to conceive has been a constant struggle. On the other hand, Ed is young, passionate, and protective. I'm going to marry him and start the family I've always wanted. Sign the papers. As long as we part on good terms, your place in the company is secure."
My refusal only fuels her relentless revenge.
She not only has me thrown in prison but also seizes every one of my assets.
In the end, she even forces my parents, who suffered from heart disease, onto a drop tower ride.
"Sign off on the divorce, and they'll be safe. Refuse, and you'll see them die on that ride."
It's wild how tangled human emotions can get, isn't it? I've seen relationships where bitterness becomes the glue—like two people locked in a dance they can't quit. Maybe it starts with love, then morphs into this weird competition where neither wants to 'lose' by walking away. They memorize each other's flaws like flashcards, using them as ammunition during fights. I knew a pair who stayed married just to spite their in-laws; every holiday was a warzone, but they smirked through it, weirdly proud of their misery.
Sometimes, hatred feels safer than emptiness. If you focus hating someone, you don’t have to face the scarier question: 'Who am I without this battle?' Shared grudges can create a perverse intimacy—like co-writing a tragic script where both refuse to change the ending. There’s a dark comfort in predictability, even if it’s predictably awful.