What Is The Moral Of Benjamin Button?

Rain Stanton thought she was mentally prepared, but she couldn’t stop her trembling hands. She took the envelope and opened it. Sitting quietly in the envelope was a Divorce Agreement. Rain felt as if her heart was cut by a blunt knife and asked, “What have I done wrong, Payton? Please give our marriage a chance.” Her husband, Payton Phillips, looked at her coldly and replied, “I have never loved you, Rain. The gentleness and tenderness I gave you were not meant for you. When I was in bed with you, I had Zara in my mind. You are nothing but a substitute. I give you five days to sign the divorce agreement.” Rain was not aware that Payton had a first love, if life had a rewind button….

I cradled Chloe’s newborn, filled with joy and affection. The baby was not blood of mine, yet as Chloe’s best friend, I would love and protect the little one with everything I had. "Sweet boy," I whispered, gently tapping the tip of his nose. "I'm your godmother. No one would ever hurt you." The hospital room was washed in golden afternoon light. Adrian stood by the window in a dark overcoat, his profile sharp against the glass. He looked exactly like the man the whole industry knew: controlled, elegant, untouchable. Hollywood's golden producer. My newlywed husband. Then he said, in a voice as flat as if he were discussing a contract, "He's not your godson. He's my son." For a second, I thought I had misheard him. Maybe I was just exhausted from the wedding, from the endless calls and fittings and congratulations. I almost laughed. But Adrian turned around. A cruel little smile curved his lips. "The child is mine," he said again. My arms tightened around the baby. "The night you got hurt," he went on, "I was with Chloe the whole night. We went through an entire box... apparently this little guy still found a way to arrive." I couldn't move. It felt as if ice water had been poured down my throat. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. After a long silence, I finally managed to whisper, "But... we only registered our marriage yesterday." Adrian walked over and put an arm around my shoulders, almost gently. His tone was soft, but it carried the kind of condescension people used with a child throwing a tantrum. "Don't worry. Chloe and I were never going to get married. If I had wanted to marry her, I would have done it years ago." He paused, and something almost pleased flashed in his eyes. "Didn't Chloe ever tell you? We had a history. I was her first."

WARNING ️: this book may contain steamy and sexual content Which is strictly not for kids under 18. "Nathaan....." I screamed as I felt his huge cap at the entrance of my womanhood. Hello didn't give a damn about me as he pressed deeper into my wet pussy. My v walls pulsated around the root of his big cock while he kept pushing inside of me. " Pleaseeee Nathan, you're hard on meeeee" I managed to speak out trying to pull his hips away from mine, rather he retracted his hip and thrusted it dick fully, deeper, stretching me wider enough to accommodate his position. Nathan is a young, handsome, famous musician who lives happily single not until he was diagnosed with a terminal illness that made him bury his life in alcohol and sex. He believes that women are created for sex only and love comes with money. Not until he met a nurse, Eva meadows who isn't moved by his wealth or fame or even his physical looks but all she wishes for is to find true love, not the kind she had with Henry— her boyfriend. Now Eva works as Nathan's personal nurse, what neither of them expects is to fall in love. Not the kind that saves you—but the kind that changes you. He taught her how to feel. She taught him how to live. Now, as time slips away, they must face one impossible truth: Can you really learn to live… when you’re running out of time to love?

After her first love died, Sophia Hayes hated me for ten years. I tried to win back her favor every day, but she only responded with cold sneers. "If you really want to make me happy, why don't you just die?" Her words were like daggers to my heart. It was a shock when she died in a pool of blood while trying to save me from an oncoming truck. With her final gaze fixed on me, she whispered, "If only I had never met you." Her mother was inconsolable with grief at the funeral. "I should have let Sophia be with Ethan Brooks. I never should have forced her to marry you!" Her father also looked at me with hatred in his eyes. "Sophia saved your life three times. She was such a wonderful person. Why couldn't it have been you who died instead?" Everyone regretted that Sophia had married me—myself included. I was driven away from the funeral, completely devastated. Three years later, I traveled back to the past after a time machine was invented. This time, I chose to sever all connections with Sophia, giving everyone the version of history they truly desired.

In my previous life, everything I do to care for myself somehow ends up benefiting my new housekeeper instead. I apply expensive skincare, yet dark spots and fine lines spread across my face, whereas the 45-year-old housekeeper's face becomes silkier. I jog every morning, yet my body only grows heavier and bulkier, while hers becomes slender and toned. When my husband notices the stretch marks on my abdomen, his face twists with disgust, and he never touches me again. "I genuinely can't bring myself to touch you. How can you look worse than Mirabelle when you take such good care of yourself?" My housekeeper looks at me with a sinister smile. A chill crawls up my spine, and the strange feeling makes me fire her on the spot. Yet, as soon as she leaves, I start aging at lightning speed, entering menopause 20 years early and developing diabetes and high blood pressure. I see every doctor I can, but after hanging on for a week, I die from a stroke. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day she first reports to work. This time, I push away the royal jelly she sets in front of me with a pleasant smile. "I've been avoiding certain foods lately. You can have it instead."

Ephemeral -- A Modern Love Story revolves around a woman named Soleil navigating through the annals of life as it coincides with the concept of love that was taught to her by her Uncle: that love can be written on sticky notes, baked into the burned edges of brownies, or found in the triplet progressions in a jazz song. A story in which she will realize that love goes beyond the scattered pieces of a puzzle or the bruised skin of apples.