I Had Died Nine Times

On the day of my wedding, my fiance, Don James Colombo, left me at the altar again. "Angelina is in the ICU," he said. "The ceremony will have to wait." It was the ninth time he had abandoned me for his terminally ill childhood sweetheart. The first time, she had run away from home, and he could not rest easy. "Angelina is missing, yet you want me to stand here toasting at the wedding? Don't be so selfish, Leticia." The third time, he said Angelina was in a terrible state and threatening to take her own life — he had to go comfort her. By the eighth time, James had stopped explaining and simply had the butler notify me the wedding was off. For him, postponing a wedding was nothing. For me, the Buono Principessa left standing in a chapel, it meant ridicule and one hundred lashes from my furious father. The lashes split open my skin and left me running a fever that would not break. James would hold me afterward, apologize helplessly, and promise he would make it up to me after we married. He promised nine times. He kept none of them. So when he left me again for Angelina, I did not cry or make a scene. I packed my bags alone and in silence. It would be the last time he ever postponed our wedding. One month later, he would never be able to find me again.

We’d been together for seven years, but during that entire time, my fiancée rejected the idea of getting married ninety-nine times, all because of a male intern. The first time, she canceled our vacation at the last minute, saying the intern was stuck on a night shift and afraid of the dark. She got on a flight that very night and rushed back to the hospital. The second time, we were already halfway through the doors of the courthouse to get our marriage registered. But just then, she got word that the intern had collapsed from exhaustion. Without a second thought, she left me standing alone in the snow for the entire day. After that, it became a pattern. Every time we were together, the intern would find some excuse to pull her away. Eventually, I made up my mind to let go. I stopped dreaming about a happy marriage with her. However, just when I announced I was transferring to another city, she broke down, begging me, almost hysterically, not to leave.

Once upon a time, Leonard truly loved me. In order to establish a Mate Bond with me, he confessed 99 times. On the 99th time, I was finally moved. On the day of our Marking Ceremony, I gave him 99 forgiveness coupons. I promised him that I would forgive him 99 times. As long as he still had coupons left over, I would forgive him and stay with him no matter what he did. We were bonded for six years. In the first five years of our Mate Bond, I rarely ever used the forgiveness coupons. Since his childhood friend Judy returned, however, I started burning through the coupons. When I tore up the 98th coupon, Leonard noticed that I had changed. I no longer made a fuss or fought him over Judy. I simply asked him calmly, “If you go to Judy, can I use up one forgiveness coupon?” Leonard paused and then recovered his cool. “Sure. I only used up slightly over half, so use another if you want.” I stayed silent as he left the house. As it turned out, he had no idea he had just lost his 98th coupon. He only had one chance left. After that, I would leave him forever.

My sister abruptly returns to the country on the day of my wedding. My parents, brother, and fiancé abandon me to pick her up at the airport. She shares a photo of them on her social media, bragging about how she's so loved. Meanwhile, all the calls I make are rejected. My fiancé is the only one who answers, but all he tells me is not to kick up a fuss. We can always have our wedding some other day. They turn me into a laughingstock on the day I've looked forward to all my life. Everyone points at me and laughs in my face. I calmly deal with everything before writing a new number in my journal—99. This is their 99th time disappointing me; I won't wish for them to love me anymore. I fill in a request to study abroad and pack my luggage. They think I've learned to be obedient, but I'm actually about to leave forever.

When I was being harassed by the Romano family’s consigliere, my fiancé, Don Luca of the Villani family, was busy kissing and drinking with Gianna at a party. To secure the partnership, I had no choice but to drink the glass the consigliere pressed against my lips. My stomach churned violently, and I could barely breathe. However, Luca never once looked at me. Instead, he focused entirely on picking the lime slices out of Gianna’s drink, coaxing her gently into finishing it. Once the party ended, Gianna casually mentioned she was bored, and Luca immediately made me get out of the car so he could take her bar-hopping afterward. “She’s been helping me manage the accounts lately, so I’m taking her out to relax. “You don’t even like bars, so don’t come along. “And I’m staying with her tonight until she has fun. So we’ll postpone the wedding again, since I can’t make it to the church tomorrow.” Our wedding had already been delayed for eight years. This was the ninety-eighth time Luca had canceled it on his own. I simply nodded. Since he was always too busy, maybe this wedding didn’t need to happen.

After losing a bet to her adopted younger brother, Peter Conroy, my wife, Ruth Davis, divorced me for the ninth time. I had told her then that if we remarried for a tenth time and divorced again, I would marry someone else. She only laughed and said, “Will, you even donated part of your liver to me. How could you possibly marry anyone else? Besides, apart from me, who would want to marry a broke loser like you?” On the day of our tenth remarriage press conference, Peter left her a key to a beach house and made a bet with her. If she could find him in three hours, he would stay and wish us a lifetime of happiness. The moment Ruth saw the key, her expression turned hesitant. She tore up the remarriage statement and ran off without hesitation. Three hours later, Peter posted a photo on social media. They were lying on a bed in the beach house and admiring the ocean view. I read the caption. [If someone really cares about you, they will cross mountains and seas just to find you.] Without telling Ruth, I withdrew the remarriage application and made a call I had not made in a very long time. “Julienne, is your proposal from back then still valid?” Her voice trembled with barely restrained excitement. “For you, it’ll always be valid.”