Save Me An Orange

When I was seven, my father brought home a beautiful lady who gave me a mango. That day, my mother watched me happily eating the mango while she signed her name on the divorce papers. After that, she jumped off the roof of our building. From then on, mangoes became the nightmare of my life. So on my wedding day, I told my husband, Alan Holt, "If you ever want a divorce, just give me a mango." Alan pulled me into his arms, quiet. From then on, mangoes became off-limits for him, too. On Christmas Eve of our fifth year of marriage, Alan's childhood sweetheart, Larissa Fennimore, left a mango on his desk at the office. The very same day, Alan announced he was cutting ties with Larissa and fired her from the company. That day, I truly believed he was the man I was meant to be with. Half a year later, I flew back from overseas, having just closed a partnership deal worth about 200 million dollars. At the celebration dinner, Alan handed me a drink. After I had finished half the glass, his so-called childhood sweetheart, the woman who had been kicked out of the company, stood behind me with a big grin and asked, "Does the mango juice taste good?" I stared at Alan in disbelief, and he was trying hard not to laugh. "Don't be mad. Larissa insisted I played a little joke on you. I didn't actually give you a mango; I just gave you a bottle of mango juice. But I think she's right. The fact that you don't eat mangoes is a real problem. You were really enjoying that juice just now." My face went cold. I lifted my hand and threw the rest of the mango juice in his face, then turned around and walked away. Some things are never a joke. I wouldn't kid around with mangoes or divorce.

I have a habit. Whenever I eat, watch a movie, or ride the bus, I will always save an empty seat next to me. I believe that Cindy Newman will one day show up in my city and surprise me. But we've been in a long-distance relationship for three years, and not once has she ever visited me. In the end, I have no choice but to handle all the wedding preparations on my own. I try on countless suits to find the one. I look everywhere for the perfect venue. The exhaustion ultimately catches up to me. With trembling fingers, I text Cindy, "I'm running a 102-degree fever. No meds at home." It takes her 30 minutes to reply to me, "So? What do you want me to do? Learn how to fly and deliver you meds? I'm busy going over a proposal. Just order it online and have it delivered to your place." My high fever is so intense that I can barely lift a finger. Amid the haziness, I pass out. When I wake up, I see my best friend, Eugene Grant, by my side. He sighs and feeds me warm water and a tablet. "She's just taking advantage of the fact you're too kind to say anything. If I were you, I would've blown up already." Two weeks later, Eugene also comes down with a high fever. I've planned to rush over and take care of him, but I see his latest post online. The photo shows only a woman's hand holding a spoon. The caption reads, "The weather is getting colder, and I've unfortunately come down with a cold. Thank goodness for a superwoman who travels over 500 miles to deliver me soup." I know what I'm seeing. It's Cindy's hand. On Cindy's wrist is the bracelet I've spent six months saving up to buy for her. At long last, it dawns on me that the empty seat remains empty not because she can't make it, but because she simply doesn't want to. In that case, I'll stop saving a seat for a person who will never come.

***This is a spinoff of my first book Couldn't Hide the Feelings. The female leading's brother in that book will be the hero in this new one. Hope you like it. You can also have a try of Couldn't Hide the Feelings, which won't fail you. By coincidence, Olive lived a life of sharing with her high school classmate Liam, who had been rejected by her. The two were like two strangers living under the same roof. A quiet life ended one night. Olive learned about her recent sleepwalking from Liam. She was embarrassed and didn't know how to react, "Last night was the first time you saw me sleepwalking, right?" Liam said, "There was another time." Olive was silent for two seconds and hesitated to say, "What... what did I do?" "You suddenly ran out, hugging me." "?" Liam raised his eyebrows and added, "And kissed me.”

Just a hug. You're running away. Gets stuck in some trouble. A guy saves your life. Who also happens to be a really famous singer. Now, What if you hug him instead of taking an autograph? What if you both feel the spark? What if you get scared? But...what if he doesn't let go? ------ "You're stuck with me, angel." Asher whistled from behind me. "You'll wish you could take back those words." I said noticing a sort of sinking feeling in my stomach as I turned and looked at him. "What if I don't?" He asked leaning quite close to me. "You will. Everybody does." I said stepping away and continuing to walk. "Even if I'll want to, just hug me and I'll stay." He said making me stop and look back at him. He winked with that breathtaking smile. "Okay, Asherboy." I said back as a smile formed on my lips too.

"Can someone Save Me?" Lilie De Vega always asks that to herself after all the doubts, self-hatred, fear, and sorrow that she had been holding for a long time. For her, no one will save her, no one will listen to all the hatred and doubts that the world has given to her. No one will ever help her to find the light that she had been looking for a long time because, for her, she's a mess and worthless. Not until the man named Lucas Nixon Montiero, came and saved her. Also to prove that she's worth it and a beautiful mess. Book

When life turns its back at you, all you can do is turn your back and run. Emerald Dubrow did that just well, choosing a university far from home, but life’s more than a decision. All effort seems aborted when she meets an obnoxious ex in the same school just when she's putting herself out there. What’s worse; he wants her back. Caught in between a hot, sorry ex and shiny brown eyes that rolled his jeans way up to his ankles, Emerald must make a quick decision.