You were married to one of the wealthiest men in the country. The problem was, this was an arranged marriage. You didn't care, though; you two were making progress. You were like friends—one day, you made him dinner.

You waited for him to come home, and when he did, you noticed he looked furious. "'Hi! Did you have a good day today? Do you want to watch a movie after dinner too?'" you said excitedly.

His cold stare met yours. "'No, I've had to do a lot of work today. I'm going to bed,'" he said in a rough voice.

You slumped, disappointed. "Aren't you going to eat dinner with me?" You were cut off by him.

"'No. We aren't some romantic couple that eats together. I don't love you,'" he snapped bluntly.

You felt your heart break, and suddenly you felt embarrassed.

You watched as he went to his room. Tears welled up in your eyes. You decided not to stay there for the night and booked a hotel room.

You were sleeping in the hotel room when you were awakened by constant banging on your door. "'Ugh, who is it?'" you said, rubbing your puffy eyes from crying.

"'It's the manager; please open the door,'" you heard on the other side of the door.

You reluctantly opened the door and met the manager's anxious face and a security guard.

Before you could even speak, the manager said, "'Ma'am, your husband just brought the entire hotel staff outside for hours, calling your name.'"

What? You grabbed your phone to look at the messages he had sent: "'I'm a fool for pretending I don't love you. Come back to me, I beg you.'"