My Dying Ex Regretted Choosing Her Over Me
The engagement party had been in full swing for quite some time, yet my fiancé was still nowhere to be seen. I tried calling him a countless number of times, but there was no response. It wasn't until I stumbled upon a post from his childhood friend, Elle, that everything became clear:
"Someone's been out on business for days, but as soon as I asked, he's here swimming with me," read her post. The photo showed her and my fiancé posing by the pool. In the background, his tuxedo jacket was tossed aside casually. Faced with a room full of guests, I declared that the engagement was off. After six years of loving him, I was utterly drained. ------------------------------
Once the guests had left, Jack called. I felt a surge of irritation but inexplicably answered anyway. His voice came through, cold and impatient, "Come pick us up at the Lakeside Club."
I took a breath and replied with an equally detached tone.
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Chapter 2
Jack Jimenez stumbled into the house at two in the morning. The living room was cluttered with several suitcases, all packed with his things. I barely glanced at his rumpled collar, noticing a faint hint of something suspicious.
He frowned, his voice laced with irritation, "Joanna, what the hell is going on?"
I paused in the midst of packing, my tone cold, "We're breaking up. You're moving out."
"Is it really necessary?"
"I only forgot today was our engagement. You know how slammed I’ve been lately."
I let out a bitter laugh and shot back, "So slammed you forget your own engagement but not too busy to enjoy a dinner date with someone else?"
"What about my wedding coat?"
A flash of guilt crossed his face as he pressed his lips together.
"I have no idea where your wedding coat ended up. I'll compensate you."
He whipped out his phone, ostentatiously punching in numbers. "Is twenty thousand enough?"
The anger I'd been bottling up all night finally exploded. "It's not enough! You know how much that wedding coat means to me!"
"It belonged to my grandfather—it's irreplaceable!"
He snorted impatiently, "So what? Fine, I'll add another ten grand, happy now?"
With a "ding," my phone notified me of a thirty thousand deposit. He looked unfazed, "Alright, I'm exhausted. Let's chill out tonight."
With that, he retreated into the guest room, slamming the door behind him.
As I stared at the closed door, the last bit of warmth in my heart went cold. I picked up my phone and dialed a number.
"Hey, Jaiden, can you help me find a reliable moving company..."
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9.6
The Manhattan skyline stretched before me like a glittering promise, each building a monument to ambition and desire. I gripped the edge of the rooftop railing, my knuckles white against the cold metal, as the truth crystallized in my chest like ice. Behind me, my twenty-second birthday party continued without its guest of honor — laughter and clinking glasses carrying on the night air, oblivious to the fact that my world had just imploded. Thiago was late. Again. The story of our relationship in a single sentence. I'd stepped away from the celebration to call him, my phone already in hand when I noticed the voicemail. He must have called while I was mid-conversation with Simone about her latest job opportunity. I pressed play, expecting his usual excuses — work emergency, traffic, some reason why he couldn't make it to yet another milestone in our five years together. "Mayaaa," his voice came through, low and intimate, the kind of tone he used when he thought no one else was listening.
8.8
Malia Martin had just returned from her annual leave when she found a dismissal email from the HR Director waiting for her at the office. She approached Kellen Rodriguez, the HR Director, for confirmation. “My employee ID is 003. Are you sure I'm being let go?” she asked. Kellen wore a forced smile. “The company’s performance this year hasn't met expectations. You, as the project lead, took a week off to holiday in Greece. How's that fair to all the staff working overtime? How does that justify the company’s investment in you?”
Malia replied with a dry laugh, “Seventy percent of the company’s success is due to my efforts. You're trying to cut off the main artery here!”
Kellen smirked.
8.3
The day I left the hospital, I unexpectedly saw Grant with a woman at a prenatal clinic. Seeing him support her with a smile felt like a stab to my heart. When he turned to look at me, surprise flickered across his face. We acted like “strangers” in front of the woman, exchanging polite words. Following my divorce from Grant, he lost it when he saw me in the arms of another man on the street. After spending a few days recovering in the hospital, today I was finally getting discharged. I'd arranged for a decent outfit to be brought to me, hoping to leave behind the air of illness. Carrying a small bag of personal belongings, I walked out of the hospital ward. "Grant!"
Something like a sixth sense made me turn towards the voice. Not far off stood a couple, the woman’s arm linked with the man’s, his hand resting gently on her belly, cherishing the new life within.
8.9
The gravel crunched under my tires as I pulled through the gates of the Hunter estate three days early. Grasse had been suffocating—too many suppliers asking questions about "The Alchemist's" next creation, too many lies I'd have to feed Rosalie later so she could regurgitate them at her next press conference. I needed my lab. My sanctuary. The house loomed dark against the October sky, all glass and steel angles that Victor had insisted projected "power." I'd wanted stone and ivy. But that was years ago, back when I still believed my opinion mattered in this marriage. I parked in the side drive, closest to the lab wing. No need to alert the house staff. They'd only fuss, and I wanted silence. Just me and my essentials oils and the bergamot shipment that should have arrived yesterday.
8.2
Darkly Yours
8.2
Veronica Knight, a young adult and promising star of the modeling industry whose eyes were full of dreams to become the supermodel like her elder sister, Victoria Knight. Surrounded by passion and compassion,idolizing her big sister as her mentor,her path was bound to be smooth but one accident brought misfortune in her joyous life. Accused of becoming the murderer of her elder sister,she was blamed and screwed by everyone including her stone hearted,wife-shipping billionaire brother-in-law, Blake Davidson,the biggest tycoon in the country. He was a firm believer in the fact that Veronica had caused his dear wife to lose. A journey started from revenge was going to make her life completely hell until lust, irresistible attraction crawled between them. Will Veronica ever be able to prove herself innocent? How will she deny the attraction that she felt for Blake but isn't it a sin to fall in love with her brother-in-law? Will she put a boundary between their feelings?
9.1
The silk nightgown felt cool against my skin as I stood beside Alexander in our wedding bed, the dim light casting shadows across his face. This was supposed to be our moment—the beginning of our marriage, however arranged it might be. My fingers trembled slightly as I reached for him, heart pounding with a mixture of duty and something I couldn't quite name. "Alexander," I whispered, my voice barely audible even in the quiet of our bedroom. "I think we should—"
The door burst open with a dramatic flourish. "！" I muttered under my breath, my body instantly tensing. Amani Russell stood in the doorway, her blonde hair perfectly styled despite the late hour, her red lips curved into what might have looked like a friendly smile to anyone who didn't know better. But I knew that smile. I'd seen it eight times already tonight. "Sorry to interrupt again!" she announced, not sounding sorry at all.