Aaron Adams Facebook ad: “Addictive Romance Novels, Read Right Now”

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In my previous life, my husband and I were devoted to each other for thirty years. When I turned fifty, he suddenly confessed that he had fallen in love with one of his students. I thought it was just a fling, so I refused to sign the divorce papers. The student didn’t end up marrying him; she left the country and soon news came that she had married someone else. On her wedding day, my husband was so distracted, then he got into a car accident and ended up disabled. I took care of him by his bedside for fifteen years. Right before he died, he held my hand and said in a trembling voice, “The biggest regret of my life is marrying you. If there’s a next life, I’ll be braver…” My children blamed me entirely for their father’s death. Later, I became paralyzed too. One of them was a CEO, the other an overseas‑educated elite, but they dumped me in the cheapest nursing home. After I died, they scattered my ashes into a ditch, looking satisfied. “If it weren’t for you, Dad and Emily would have been happy. You vicious woman, you don’t deserve a good ending.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my husband confessed to me. ...... That morning, I started cooking in the kitchen at six. I brined the chicken, mashed the potatoes, made the cranberry sauce, and even hand‑weaved the lattice on the apple pie. All day long, I was stuck in the kitchen, so exhausted I could barely straighten my back. My husband spent his time either working in his study or fussing over his snake plants on the balcony. Our son arrived first. He brought his dad a bottle of top‑shelf whiskey and ten expensive cigars. Then he turned and handed me a plastic bag filled with bruised, brownish fruit. “Bought these last month. Jennifer said she couldn’t finish them, so I brought them for you.” He said it with a smile, as if nothing was wrong. I didn’t say anything. I just took the bag into the kitchen. Not long after, our daughter arrived. The salmon was sizzling in the pan, and the afternoon sun filled the living room. The children sat around their father, chatting warmly. In that cozy picture, I was the only one who seemed out of place. Soon, dinner was on the table. Our son raised his glass first. “To you, Dad. None of our success would be possible without your help. You’re not just my father, you’re my greatest mentor.” Our daughter stood up too. “To you, Dad. If you hadn’t worked so hard all those years, our family wouldn’t have the life we have today.” After that toast, my daughter took a bite of food and frowned. “Mom, this is too salty.” It seemed they had all forgotten that today was supposed to be my fiftieth birthday. “Let me say something too.” My husband drained his third glass and set it down hard, as if he’d finally made up his mind. “Amanda, there’s something I have to tell you. I’ve fallen in love with someone else. One of my students. We’ve been together for a while. She’s young and insecure, and I want to marry her.” I gripped my fork tight. Before I could speak, our son burst out excitedly, “Dad, you finally said it! Honestly, not everyone has that kind of courage. I support you, no matter what.” Our daughter clapped. “Congratulations, Dad, on finding your second true love! Let’s toast to a love that transcends age and convention.” The three of them raised their glasses together. I was the only one who kept silent, staring down at my plate. “Come on, Mom, don’t be a downer.” “Yeah, Dad found true love. Shouldn’t you be happy for him?” Their eyes held the kind of blame you’d give a child who was being difficult. I looked at the food growing cold on the table and let out a bitter laugh. Then, from my pocket, I pulled out a wrinkled divorce agreement. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll give you what you want.”An awkward silence fell over the room. Cyrus seemed surprised that I had agreed so easily. His voice carried barely concealed excitement. “Amanda, you really mean it?” I pushed the pape......

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