Lisa

I am a tragic woman. For five years, my husband and I have hidden our marriage—no one knows we are husband and wife. He doesn't love me; I'm merely an outlet for his desires.

To him, I'm probably just a prostitute he doesn't have to pay.

My husband is deeply in love with another woman. He lavishes all his affection on her, while I, his lawful wife, am met with nothing but indifference and cruelty...

My life is a prison, holding me captive.

This ridiculous marriage was doomed from the start.

Today, I summoned the courage to shatter my chains:

'Let's divorce!'

Three years ago, I thought I had married my true love, but now I've discovered that my husband has been secretly entangled with my own younger sister behind my back.
"Your husband is in my bed!"
When I received this message, I was utterly shocked.
My husband was cheating!
With my sister!
The double betrayal by my husband and sister cut through my heart like a knife, leaving me in unbearable pain.
How could this shattered marriage be saved?
Was there any point in maintaining this twisted sisterly relationship?
Clutching the divorce papers in my hand, I made my choice...

My marriage is an absolute mess. My husband doesn't care about me at all—his heart still belongs to his first love. He lies to me, claiming he's working overtime, when in reality he's out fooling around with her.
I loved him so much. I gave in again and again, compromised time after time—and all I got in return were lies and betrayal.
I've had enough of this life. So today, I made up my mind—I'm going to divorce him, and from now on, I'll live for myself alone...

After seven years of marriage, she had given up her crown as the world’s foremost violinist to become a devoted housewife—for him. In return, on their anniversary, he spent the evening with another woman, and her own son looked at her as if she were the enemy. When the cold dial tone of a deadened phone line reached her ear, her heart turned to ash. She signed the divorce papers and walked away with nothing.

Everyone assumed she would come crawling back, begging for mercy once she tasted life outside the gilded cage. Her ex-husband merely smirked, waiting for her to relent. But what he got instead was a blocked number—and a global headline: “The Violin Queen, Missing for Seven Years, Returns—Her First Solo Concert Sells Out in One Second!” Under the spotlight, the woman he had dismissed as worthless now blazed with a brilliance far beyond his reach.

Backstage, an assistant stopped the frantic ex-husband as he tried to storm in. “She’s currently meeting with royalty. She has no time for you.”
His eyes bloodshot, he roared, “Tell her to come out! I’m her husband!”
The assistant gave a cold smile. “Sorry—you were her husband.”

I was the most insignificant girl at the Academy of Magic—a Muggle with no natural talent, hiding in the shadows with a concealment spell, just so I could secretly gaze at the golden boy who shone brighter than anyone else. He had saved me once in a rainstorm, and from that night on, I offered him my whole heart, content to be the silent shadow behind him. To get closer to him, I taught myself the most arcane spells through sheer grit, and even stayed up countless nights cultivating glowgrass, hoping it might help heal his battle wounds. I thought my quiet, enduring love would one day be seen—until the night before the ball, when his friends exposed the truth: his kindness toward me was nothing but a bet, a game to see if he could make a pathetic Muggle fall for him and then humiliate her. The crushed flowers, the words "haven't you made a fool of yourself enough?"—they were the final straw that shattered every last one of my humble illusions.

I fled into the Forbidden Forest, only to stumble into the arms of a dying beast-man deep in the misty woods. He was covered in wounds, black mist seeping from his flesh, and the cold stone I had worn around my neck since childhood suddenly burned hot—silver threads burst from it, binding us together as if fate itself was forcing me to save him. I poured every last drop of my magic into healing him, watching as his beastly form melted away, revealing a snow-white divine creature, and then a man so beautiful he looked like a god. When he woke, he said nothing—only pressed his cheek against my palm, then looked up at me with those dark-golden, slit-pupiled eyes, and kissed me. In a hoarse whisper, he said—

"I've finally found you."

In that moment, I realized that the light I had been chasing all along had pointed in the wrong direction from the very start. And the one who had been waiting for me in the abyss for a thousand years was now burning with a warmth so fierce, it could heal every scar I'd ever carried.