My Sister Got Married and Divorced Eight Times

Shirley was utterly devastated.

Year after year, it was like a curse that tightly gripped her fate.

She wasn't yet thirty and had already been married eight times.

They were not separated by life but by death.

This time, Shirley finally believed in fate.

She told me, "Polly, I never believed in fate before, but now I understand. Everything is predestined, and we have no control over it."

These words made my heart broken.

I remembered the last time she got married, as I had also started dating, we decided to consult a fortune teller together.

This time, the fortune teller was an old man who looked quite kind.

He looked at Shirley and remained silent for a long time before speaking softly, "Dear, according to your fortune, your true match hasn't arrived yet."

Shirley asked in a daze, "Then when will my true match come?"

The old man stroked his beard, calculating for a long time before saying, "Your marriage will stabilize only after sixty. Better wait."

Shirley, with no expectation of her marriage, wasn't surprised anymore.

Every fortune teller said almost the same thing.

The straightforward ones said, "You are destined to bring misfortune to your husbands. Marriage will lead to disaster. You shouldn't harm others."

The more tactful ones said, "This isn't your true match. You will only find stability after sixty. Better wait."

But life was only a few decades long. Who knew if one could live to sixty? What was the point of getting married by then?

Shirley was only down for a moment before she pulled the Shaman to read my fortune.

The Shaman looked at me and beamed. "This girl has a good fate, destined to bring luck to her husband. Any man who marries her will be fortunate."

Shirley eagerly asked, "What about Polly's boyfriend? Is he her true match?"

The Shaman nodded. "She has a good fate. She won't encounter any bad relationships. As long as it reaches the point of discussing marriage, it will be her true match."

That day, Shirley was very happy when we left.

I, however, felt a bit bittersweet. Shirley and I were very close.

When we were little, our parents were away working to earn money, so we grew up with our grandparents.

But they were old and had difficulty getting around, so most of the caretaking fell on Shirley.

She was five years older than me.

Since I was born, she learned to change my diapers, wash clothes, and feed me formula.

The first word I said was "Shirley".

When I first tried to walk, I fell into her arms.

To me, Shirley was like a mother, even closer than my real mother.

I wished nothing but the best for her.

But thinking of her misfortunes made my throat tight, and I couldn't breathe.

Shirley seemed to sense my thoughts and patted my head affectionately.

"Polly, you don't need to worry about me. This is my fate.

"My only wish is to see you live a safe and happy life."