Paperwhite Plant

"Wider, Millie. Yes, that's it." I lay weakly on the examination table, my hands unconsciously gripping the sheets. The voice behind me was low and restrained, but it made my ears burn. This examination position was too embarrassing. My buttocks were forced to arch high like some kind of submissive gesture. "Doctor, I can't open any wider..." I bit my lower lip, my voice trembling deliberately. I could see my reflection in the metal bars of the examination table. My messy hair stuck to my flushed cheeks as my eyes shone with a watery, dreamy glow.

After I became mentally challenged, my godmother, Fenelle Porter, took care of me personally. She not only massaged me and helped me exercise, but she also never resisted my touch. My godfather, Sam Porter, took advantage of my situation and was always intimate with Fenelle in front of me. Little did they know that I had already recovered. While Fenelle and Sam were video chatting, and she was using toys to pleasure herself during the video call, I put myself into her. Sam was completely unaware all along.

I had promised my son that when he turned three, the three of us would go to the amusement park together as a family. But he never lived to see that birthday. My husband, Daniel Shaw, who was a perfect match for the bone marrow transplant, disappeared just before the surgery—phone off, leaving no trace. Without him, our son lost his last chance at survival. When Daniel finally came home, he asked, "Where's our son? Weren't we supposed to take him to the amusement park for his birthday?" Then his eyes fell on the urn. That was the moment he truly lost his mind.

Once upon a time, she had a happy family and lived a comfortable life. But because she fell for the wrong guy, everything was ruined.The man she'd fallen for gets together with her best friend.She shows up for their wedding, looking awkward. All she wants is an explanation and some closure, but she's subjected to humiliation. Then, everything changes when another man appears and saves her from that hellhole.How will a marriage that's related to a family's survival turn out?In this marriage, they clash and butt heads while getting to know each other. Will the hint of love that sprouts over time wilt and die after all the hardships they go through, or will it grow into a proper plant? And where will she go from here?

Millie Caldwell fails to win Winston Greer's heart despite them being married for three years. They get married after a misunderstanding, and Millie goes back to being the princess of the Caldwell family.Her father asks, "When are you going to inherit my billions, sweetheart?"Her mother beams. "Be a designer like me! You're bound to become famous with me backing you up!"Her grandmother says sternly, "Mills has to take up medicine. Think about her prowess in the medical field—it'd be a waste not to use her skills!"Millie asks her grandfather, "What do you think, Grandpa?"He looks pleased. "How about we drink some tea and plant some flowers? You can enjoy your retirement before you're due for it."Millie thinks this is the best her life can get… until Winston latches onto her and refuses to let go."I regret everything, Mills." He holds her tightly after getting drunk. His eyes are red, and he chokes up as he says, "Can you call me your husband just one more time?"Millie smiles. "Have some shame, jerkface."Jerkface says, "Being shamed means nothing compared to having you as my wife."

After being reborn, the first thing my cousin and I did was switch grooms. In our previous lives, we had gotten married on the same day. She, gentle and composed by nature, became the wife of Blake Malcolm, the aloof naval commander. On their wedding anniversary, Blake skipped the occasion to celebrate his childhood friend's birthday. My cousin had only wanted an explanation, but Blake claimed his conscience was clear. They fell into a silence that lasted fifty years. And me? With my temper—quick to fight, never one for patience—I had married an accountant from the machinery plant's compound. The accountant was soft-spoken, forever complaining about how loud I was, and how little I cared about appearances. We fought every three days, major arguments every five. Eventually, he stopped coming home. Less than a year into the marriage, we divorced. Then one day, my cousin and I opened our eyes and found ourselves young again—and it was the day we were to marry. Again.