Live Like a Weed, Unyielding and Tough

My husband, Peter Sullivan, was obsessed with his first love who got kidnapped.

When she was found, Nicole Cooper was pregnant with another man's child.

While I was due to give birth soon, Peter forced me to sign the divorce agreement.

"The doctor said Nicole's womb is fragile," he said. "If she loses this baby, she might never have another. I'll keep supporting you and our kid, but I can only be the father to her child."

He once promised me forever. Now it proved to be just a lie.

I looked at him and agreed without a fight.

In fact, this was my third time living this life.

This time, I just wanted to protect my baby and survive.

Peter Sullivan was thrown off by my calm agreement.

His prepared speech had no use now, but he warned me sternly, "Don't play games with me. If this gets out and hurts Nicole, you're done."

My nails dug into my palms. Memories of my past two lives, both ending in tragedy, flashed vividly.

I paused, saying, "I will divorce you, but you have to sign away your parental rights."

He agreed without hesitation, and the revised agreement was soon ready.

I checked every detail and signed it. Peter snatched the document and grinned.

Then he pulled out his phone, dialing Nicole. At the door, he turned back. "Move out as soon as you can. Don't upset Nicole and affect her pregnancy."

His words stung, and I forced a smile.

In my first life, I clung to hope, thinking the birth of our baby would fix our marriage. I fought and cried, stopping Nicole from marrying him.

Then her scandal of carrying another man's child was exposed. She couldn't handle the gossip and jumped to her death.

Peter barely blinked, never mentioning her again after her funeral.

But when our baby turned one month old, kidnappers took us both, demanding a fortune from Peter. He refused to pay and just listened as they tortured me.

That was when I realized he had never given up on avenging Nicole.

In my second life, I took the divorce settlement and left with my baby.

But when Nicole miscarried, Peter let her take her rage out on me. She locked me and my baby in a dark stable where terrified horses trampled us to death.

I touched my swollen belly, determined to stay away from the two maniacs.

A loud knock jolted me. Before I could react, the housekeeper barged in with a group of people.

"Ms. Clark, we're cleaning the room," Melva said brusquely. "You need to leave"

It was ironic. The divorce wasn't even final, and I was already stripped of my title.

I took a deep breath and started packing. But when I grabbed the baby clothes, Melva yanked them away.

"These were bought with Mr. Sullivan's money. You've got no right to take them," she said, tossing the clothes into a trash bag.

At her signal, a younger maid dragged