Adonis Crying On Stage Novels & Stories

My three-year-old daughter was playing in the room, and she suddenly fell from the window of the room and died. In my past life, I held her lifeless body after learning the news, crying so hard I thought I would never stop. But when my husband rushed back, he slapped me across the face without a second thought. "How could you be so cruel? You actually threw her out of the window—she was only three!" I was too stunned to react. Later, my husband and my best friend teamed up and testified that I had thrown my daughter from the window because I had an argument with my husband. I was cyberbullied and labeled the "evil mom". Amid the public hatred and the pain of losing my daughter, I jumped to prove my innocence. Even in death, I still didn't understand. My daughter had been fine playing in the room—how did she fall out of the window? When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day she fell.

When Callum abandoned me, feverish and shivering on a mountain road, just to watch a meteor shower with the young woman he had raised, I decided to divorce him. His good friend, Emmet, advised him to try winning me back. "Look Cal, sisters are sisters, but a wife takes priority. You’d better not mix up what matters most." Callum, however, dismissed the idea with a confident smile. "She’s bluffing. Does she really think she’ll go through with the divorce?" "All these years, I’ve given her a place to belong. Without me, she wouldn’t even have a home. Leave me? She wouldn’t dare.  "Just wait. Before the cooling-off period ends, she’ll come back crying and begging me to take her in."  But thirty days passed, and I never looked back. While he scoured the world searching for me, I sipped tea in a misty mountain villa, utterly at peace. "James," I remarked to my step-brother, "your place truly feels like home."

The day Jasper Carter's terminally ill ex, Natalie Klutz, gave birth, his parents—Josephine and Raymond—hired ten bodyguards to keep me, his actual wife, out of the hospital. But I never showed. Josephine clutched Natalie's hand. "She's not getting near you or the baby." Jasper wiped Natalie's forehead. "Relax. Dad's got men at every door. If Emily shows, we'll toss her." Hours passed. Still no me. Jasper finally let himself breathe. He didn't get what my deal was. He was just granting Natalie's dying wish—to be a mom. The second the nurse handed over the crying baby, he smiled like everything was finally worth it. If I came tomorrow and said sorry, he'd forgive me. Hell, he'd even let me raise the kid. What he didn't know? I had just submitted my paperwork. I'd leave the country, join Doctors Without Borders, and ghost him for good.

The year of my college entrance exams, I gave up my acceptance to Harvard for James Carter. But after five years into our relationship, I ended it. Outside the dorm building, I caught him holding Sarah Williams, who was dripping in designer labels, locked in a passionate kiss. James smirked, "You're just a simple farmer. What kind of life could you possibly offer me?" But he seemed to forget that I had bought him everything - from his tailored Tom Ford suit to his Rolex watch. Heartbroken, I walked away. If someone else wanted to be a doormat for him, they could be my guest - I was done. Later, I focused on growing my agricultural business, eventually expanding into space farming. That's when the media uncovered my true identity as the heiress to a multi-billion dollar fortune. Mr. Williams groveled, forcing Sarah to kneel beside him, begging me to consider a business partnership. James, his eyes red from crying, grabbed my sleeve and said he regretted everything.

I married Eleanor Vance on the very same day her true love was getting married next door. Just as we were about to exchange rings, the man himself stormed into our ceremony. Red-eyed and shaking, he announced that the only woman he'd ever loved was Eleanor and that he couldn't go through with marrying the fiancee waiting for him, the one battling a terminal illness. Eleanor didn't even look at me. She pulled her hand from mine and ran after him. I was left standing there, humiliated, while my mother was so angry she ended up in the hospital. Later, the abandoned bride and I caught each other's eyes for a moment. I asked quietly, "Do you want to switch grooms?" Three years passed before Eleanor came back. She was crying, saying she regretted everything. But I scooped up both kids from the backseat, one in each arm. I stepped aside and said, "Excuse me. I'm in a hurry to pick up my wife from work."

Being a writer is not easy, but being a ghost writer who wanted to pursue writing but doesn’t want her name to get involved to any issues in order to have a peaceful life is so hard. While Bavina is focusing on being a ghost writer whom have tons of supporters and readers, she’s having a hard time to hide it when Paul Hemingway, whom is a singer and a composer knew about her big secret. It all started when Bavina saw him in the middle of the rain, crying and not on the right mind. Paul asked her to be in a fake relationship with him and will pay her a half million, and after Bavina met Paul’s Dad, she’s determined to help him to stop the marriage of Paul and Tacia, whom was his ex. But what if because of the contract fake relationship, one of them will want to be in a real relationship? And what if the moment they created a new human being, they both turned their back on each other because one of them can’t accept it? Are they going to be with each other or one of them will get married to one another and deny the child? Unforbidden is unforbidden. Fake is fake.

Jane Foster's twin sister was defiled and died before her wedding. Amidst her family's crisis, Jane was called to shed her armor and marry in her sister's place, thus becoming the country's queen. The tyrant king's first love was long dead. All the concubines in the harem were merely inferior distractions. The only person he adored was the royal concubine, Lady Helena, who resembled his first love the most. Meanwhile, Jane was nothing like his first love. Everyone thought the tyrant king would get sick of her and have her dethroned sooner or later. As expected, the king and the queen were on the verge of a divorce. However, instead of the queen being on the receiving end of the divorce, it was the king. That very night, the tyrant king tugged at the hem of Jane's dress. "You can leave, but only over my dead body!" The concubines were crying their eyes out while they stopped the tyrant king and called out to Jane, "Your Majesty, please don't leave us. If you must leave, take us with you!"

Mallory is a simple Human with a life where everybody loved her. Including her Husband Helios. But one person changed everything. “What lies did Madeline tell you this time that you had to yanked me out of the bed?” I ask calmly. “Get rid of it.” He said angrily. Confused I stared at him. “Don’t play dumb with me. Get that fucking thing growing in you aborted!” He says and my eyes widen. And how could he refer to our baby as just a thing he could easily can get rid of? “No!” I say and he laughed. He then carried me screaming and crying begging him, and he placed me on the hospital bed. “Ben, get that thing removed from her now!” He commanded. After 5 years later, Mallory comes back but without any memory of him. When it’s too late, does he deserve to be forgiven? Or he should just forget about her and move like she did? After all, they are mates.

While presiding over a transnational meeting, I received a distressing call from my daughter's kindergarten teacher. "Mrs. Payton, a kid drew a massive clown on Anna's face during nap time! No matter how much I try to wash it off, it won't come off!" I immediately rushed to the kindergarten. My daughter, Anna Payton, was sobbing at the door. Her usually fair and tender face was now red and swollen. The clown drawing on it was particularly eye-catching. The new teacher was so panicked that she was crying herself, her voice trembling. "The parent of the other child is in the office. They said they're willing to compensate any amount, but... But there's no way you can make their son apologize." My anger surged as I kicked open the office door. However, I instantly froze in place. In the office, my husband, Arlo Payton, who was supposed to be in Swizor for a year of intensive studies, was holding up the bully. The next second, the little boy in his arms pointed at Anna and laughed. "Look, Dad. Clownface is here!"

On Christmas Eve, my six-year-old, Yule, was dying from cancer, and all he wanted was a gift from his dad dressed as Santa. I called Peter, my husband, begging him to come. His reply? "Can you stop blowing up my phone? I don't have time for this! I'm helping Tracey find Puffy. Do you know how upset she is?" Oh, Tracey. His first love. And Puffy? Her dog. I told him Yule might not make it through the night. His response? A straight-up dagger: "Don't act like this isn't your fault, Freya. If Yule hadn't kicked Puffy, none of this would've happened. Tomorrow, make sure he apologizes to Tracey." Then he hung up. That night, I sat with Yule, crying as I helped him celebrate his last Christmas. By morning, Peter's social medias were still full of posts about that freaking dog. Mine? Yule's obituary. Ten years of marriage, gone.