Why Does The Protagonist In Bloom Part II Leave?

Julian Ziegler betrays his and Willow Harper's four-year marriage. He pursues his true love like mad, wanting to make up for the regrets he experienced in his youth. Willow loves him deeply and tries her best to win him back. However, he wraps an arm around his true love and mocks her. "You're the furthest thing from a woman I've ever seen, Willow! I can't even get it up when I look at your icy face!" Willow's heart dies at his words. She no longer clings to him and leaves, not wanting to embarrass herself further. … Julian doesn't recognize Willow when they meet again. She sheds her strong, domineering façade, revealing a softer, more affectionate side. Countless big shots pursue her—even the most powerful man in the city smiles only for her. Julian loses his mind! He loiters outside her door every night, giving her checks and expensive jewelry. If possible, he would dig out his heart for her. When others are curious about their relationship, Willow merely smiles indifferently. "Mr. Ziegler is just a passing chapter in the book of my life."

After eight years of marriage, I finally get pregnant with Claude Frey's child. It's my sixth round of IVF, and my last chance. The doctor says I can't put my body through it again. I'm overjoyed, ready to share the good news with him. But a week before our anniversary, I received an anonymous photo in the mail. In it, he was bending down to kiss another woman's pregnant belly. That woman is his childhood sweetheart, the one his family watched grow up. She's gentle and well-mannered, and the kind of daughter-in-law every parent dreams of. The funniest part is that his entire family knows about her pregnancy, except me. I'm just the punchline in their joke. It turns out that the marriage I've been holding together despite all my wounds is nothing but a carefully crafted lie. Fine. I don't want Claude anymore, and I'll never let my child be born into a world built on lies. I book my ticket to leave on our eighth anniversary. It's also the very day he's supposed to take me to see the sea of roses. Before we got married, he promised me a sea of flowers all my own. But instead, I find him in front of the rose garden, kissing his pregnant childhood sweetheart. After I leave, he starts searching for me everywhere. "Don't go, please?" he begs. "I was wrong. Don't leave." He finally remembers the promise he'd made to me and plants the most beautiful roses in the world in that garden. But I don't need it anymore.

Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | 18+ | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Pace It started with a kiss I don’t remember giving. A rooftop. A moan. Someone’s fingers buried in my hair like they belonged there. A mouth on my throat that said I tasted like something they lost in another life. I wasn’t dreaming. The city was already cracking beneath me. Power grids flickering like dying stars. Tech failing. Screens static. The sky bruising in strange new colors. Everyone said it was coincidence. Collapse. Noise. But I knew better. The moment I felt her breath on my skin — even if I couldn’t see her — I knew the end had already arrived. And I had something to do with it. Ten butterflies followed me after that. Not literal ones. Not always. They shimmered in my periphery. Each the wrong color. Each too vivid. Each drawn to me like heat to blood. They touched me in dreams. They watched me when I undressed. They whispered without words. I could taste their want. Some called me cursed. Broken. Unstable. But the truth is simpler. I’m blooming again — and they all feel it. They don’t love me. They remember me. They remember what I used to be — what I still am, underneath the silence. One of them burned me with just a kiss. One broke my spine with kindness. One slid her hand under my shirt like it was always hers. One cries when she touches me. One never speaks, but her eyes dig. One wants to keep me. One wants to ruin me. And one just wants to finish what we started. They think I’m choosing. I’m not. My body already did. And now the bloom inside me is turning darker.

A King is looking for his long-lost queen in the beautiful, magical world of Alloria. In desperation, he strikes a deal with a grey wizard with mysterious intentions, and upon his word, his beloved will return to him. How or when she will return is uncertain. A cheerful and feisty manager in the fashion industry gets her life thrown upside down when she finds herself in a strange new world – and things get even stranger when she stumbles across a group of dressed-up knights –all of them saying they know her by a different name. Now a king of this strange land is out there to win her heart, while a sinister force wants her dead – much like storybooks of old. *** "Love endures everything...Without love...how can one truly live?" "Love did not build my career. It did not get me through taxes...it did not get me my college degree...it did not keep my relationship with my boyfriend...love does not accomplish much where I come from..." "Or perhaps, where you come from, there is too little love, it explains why you are generally so miserable all the time..."

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.

My sister and I were reborn on the very day we were to be sent to the Demons as sacrificial vessels. That day, our husbands, the God of Water and the God of Fire, came to rescue us. However, this time, without any discussion, we made the same choice. We refused their rescue and willingly offered ourselves to the Demons. In our previous life, after they saved us, the Demons captured the God of Water's young apprentice as a replacement. In the end, she was flayed and had her bones torn out, dying a brutal and tragic death. Because of that, the God of Water and the God of Fire came to hate my sister and me deeply. They spread rumors that we were the Twin Blossoms of Ruin, destined to destroy the world, and forced us to the point where our souls were completely annihilated. When I opened my eyes again, my sister and I had returned to the moment when the Demons first captured us. We exchanged a glance and then announced in front of everyone, "We are willing to become the sacrificial vessels of the Dark Lord and the Demon King. Take us with you." The God of Water and the God of Fire left with their young apprentice, who was completely unharmed. They were relieved that they had finally protected the one they truly cared about. Only later did they realize their mistake, but by then, they were consumed with regret.