How Is 'Said That You Love Me' Used In Romantic Literature?

Jaden Cole is a eighteen year old high school basketball captain. He is loved by all for his perfect image. He doesn't do drug or smokes but party hard just like every other kid in the block.His clean boyish attitude is like a magnet that attract all the girls around him who will stop at nothing than to get in his pant but Jaden doesn't keep them around long enough to want to claim the relationship status in his life.But one day, things changed when a new kid, Ryder Smith shows up in class. He is dark, mysterious and a complete opposite of Jaden Cole. He smokes, has tattoos and rides a Harlem to school.Ryder Smith is your typical badboy with lip piercing and has no mouth filter but beneath all that roughness is a big loveable heart and will do anything for Jaden Cole to see it. Only problem is, Jaden doesn't want anything to do with him or does he?

This book gathers different love stories, yes, love stories. All these stories that I collected over time, that were told to me by friends, acquaintances, relatives and others from my own imagination ink. And perhaps, there is some coincidence.

“I love you” I whispered and he went rigid, his head snapped up and his blue eyes darkened. “Don’t you ever say that” he growled, clenching his fist “Why?” I asked and held his hand, he averted his gaze, staring at his former love grave. “I can’t love” he said, “I am just a zombie, My heart died with her years ago” Arthur said, pointing at the grave, he looked at me studying my face, “Just don’t say that again please” “It’s okay” I said softly, “But it just don’t change the fact that I love you. And I am ready to be a good wife” I said, Arthur gaze hardened. “That’s your problem,” Arthur said, “I don’t want you to say that, and know your place” His statement hurt, but I faked a smile, and he nodded and walked away, I stared at his lover’s grave and dropped my necklace on it. Maybe she was worthy to wear that more than I.

Growing up in a broken home and opposite a married couple who did nothing but fight, Diana Young swore off marriage and everything to do with it. People say that love ends when marriage starts and since marriage is love's destination, it was kind of ironic. But Diana believed it was all the bit true.Everyone's disappointed at the pot of gold that is not found at the end of the rainbow. Love was like that, she thought. A disappointment. Perhaps she just needed the right person to show her the real pot of gold. What is really found at the end of love, because maybe, just maybe, love doesn't end at all.

I have a secret. When I touch someone, I see the face of the person they love most. Since Natalie moved in next door when we were seven, I always saw myself in her heart. At eighteen, when she held my hand—it was me. At twenty-two, when she proposed—it was me. On our wedding night, when she kissed me—it was still me. On the morning of our third anniversary, I fixed the hem of her dress. My fingers grazed her ankle. Out of habit, I closed my eyes. This time, I saw two faces. Mine. And some guy I'd never seen before. That night, Natalie's phone lit up. [Thanks for spending today with me, Natalie.] Twenty-one years. A hundred thousand touches. And for the first time, I was wrong.

On the day of my twenty-first birthday, I posted online: [I want a lollipop.] My childhood rival, who was overseas, dropped everything there and flew back. He showered and showed up at my doorstep. I vowed to savor lollipops more carefully from then on—they were simply too sweet. From that moment, even after I was exposed as a fake heiress, everyone in high society knew: Jonathan Chase wanted to marry me. When the Sterling family carried out their harsh punishment, the hundred lashes meant for me were almost entirely taken by him—ninety-nine of them, borne by his own body. When they locked me in the basement, with darkness closing in from all sides, his shouts each day became my only light. "Chloe, don't be afraid. I'll get you out," he promised. And he did. He really saved me. He also made me witness, with my own eyes, his magnificent wedding to the true heiress. The man who once couldn't bear to make me wait had, "for my sake", told me to wait three times. The first time was on his wedding day. Pain was etched into every line of his face. "Chloe, if I don't marry Eleanor, they'll never let you go. Wait for me for three years. Three years from now, I'll marry you." The second time was three years later. He looked at Eleanor's rounded belly, hesitation written all over his face. "Chloe… she's carrying my child. You'll have to wait a little longer." The third time was just yesterday. I was just a step away from his kid. He pushed me violently to the floor, his face tight with warning. "Chloe, can't you just wait? Why do you have to take it out on a kid?" Sunlight fell across the face that once loved me, now stripped of all its former warmth. "If that's how it is… then maybe it's time for me to leave too." I said inwardly.