Eight Hours From England

Eight Days (A.k.A 192 Hours) is a Romance Business Novel, it entails the happening in the life of Bisola by the hand of Fate, it tells how an orphan Girl with nothing but just her Bachelor Degree Certificate in Marketing found a Job, caught the eyes of her Cold CEO, also cause the Cold CEO to finally admit his love for her, all within the period of Eight days. hguuh NOTE:- The Novel Plot happened within Eight Days

Eight years after running away pregnant, I found myself crossing paths with my ex-husband, Howard Quinn. His friends stared at me in surprise. "So, this is what you have become after leaving Howard? Reduced to a cleaner?" When I was six-months pregnant, I met with an accident. While I lay there, he was staying by the side of another woman, his so-called true love, in labor, never leaving her side. When I confronted him, in pieces, he looked at me bored and impatiently. "Don't be so jealous and petty. I have no time for you. As long as you behave, you'll always be Mrs. Quinn." I couldn't stand it any longer, so I ran away, staying away for eight long years. Now, those sharp eyes glared at me. "Have you had enough? If so, come home." What he didn't know was that my husband and daughter had already made dinner, waiting for me and my son to return home.

My mother was critically ill, and I drove five hundred miles back to my hometown alone. At a rest stop, I saw a video online. A young man had posted: "First day driving long-distance as a nervous beginner. My ex followed me for three hundred miles, all the way until I got home safely." In the video, a familiar black Mercedes followed a white car the entire way. The top comment came from a burner account: "I'm the driver's ex. No other meaning. I just couldn't stop worrying. "He's timid, but always tries to act brave. I was afraid something would happen to him. "Please don't overthink it. Don't bother him. I'll feel bad." The internet exploded. "What kind of once-in-a-lifetime devoted ex is this? Get back together already!" I stared at that Mercedes. The plate number was GB-8860V. It was my fiancee Vanessa Tomlinson's car. That morning, she had canceled the plan to drive home with me. She said her company had an emergency project and she could not get away. I had sent her dozens of messages, and she had not replied to a single one. Yet she had time to escort the man she never truly let go of for three hundred miles. My phone buzzed. Vanessa had finally texted me: "Is the interstate jammed? Drive safe."

I've been in a long-distance relationship with Xavier Harrington for four years. Every time we meet up with each other, the first thing he says to me is, "You've gotten fatter… and shorter." When my friend finds out about it, she jokes to me, "Maybe he has another girlfriend who's taller and thinner than you." It's supposed to be a joke, and yet I take it seriously. It explains why I've decided to travel a span of 1,800 miles just to seek Xavier out at the city he's stationed to. But that's when I accidentally stumble upon Xavier going on a stroll with a young woman side by side. I trail behind them, only to see them going to a cafe that's filled with people. There, they line up so that they can snap commemorative photos. However, whenever Xavier's hanging out with me, he often turns my suggestions down impatiently. To him, lining up at such places is a waste of time. Later on, Xavier and the woman secure a table in a restaurant. There, Xavier pulls out a chair for her before he starts setting out the cutlery for her. Even when the food is served, he will subconsciously push the woman's favorite dish in her direction. For the first time ever in our relationship of eight years, I find out that Xavier can be caring when he feels like it. I watch as Xavier chats animatedly with the woman at the table. He shares everything with her, be it the irritating experiences at work or the funny and interesting incidents that have happened to him so far. Then, I lower my head to look at the short text messages Xavier has sent to me in the past. "Time for work. It's lunch time. I'm about to nap." Suddenly, I find my relationship with Xavier extremely boring, so I dig out the invitation sent by my company regarding their outstation request and tap on it. After all, I no longer want anything to do with this flawed relationship anymore.

I begged my boss, Arthur Hutton, ninety-eight times for us to get officially married. Each time, he canceled our plans because his childhood sweetheart deliberately lured him away. On the ninety-ninth attempt, I waited for him at the city hall. Arthur simply patted my head and then put up a sign on the door that read, [Serena Xander and Dogs Not Allowed.] He said indifferently, “Millie’s throwing a fit, and I can’t calm her down. I need to marry her first. “I’ll divorce her, so just wait for me. Next Wednesday is a good day. I’ll marry you then.” But he did not know that I only had ninety-nine chances to give. I would be resigning the following week.

During a long holiday, my husband booked flights for a family vacation. On the way to the airport, I suddenly saw numbers appearing on everyone’s head. The numbers on my husband’s head indicated sixty years, but my parents and I had only six hours indicated on our heads. While I was puzzled over the meaning of those numbers, I noticed that the driver next to us only had six seconds indicated over his head through the car window. Five… Four… Three… Two… One. When the number turned zero, a massive truck immediately rammed into the car next to us. I saw flickers of fire, flesh and blood exploding before my eyes. People were screaming for help, but I could not hear anything. I trembled as cold sweat drenched my entire body. It was because my flight would be taking off in six hours.