After All This Time

When I was waiting for Theodore at City Hall from dawn to dusk, he was accompanying his first love on a hike. I called him dozens of times, but he rejected my calls instantly each time. He finally picked up on the twentieth call. "Why are you blowing up my phone when you simply didn't see me for a day? Why are you acting so desperate? Sammy's feeling unwell because of her heart and I still need to take care of her at the hospital. We'll talk later about registering our marriage." Ten years of love. This was the 100th time Theodore had left me alone in front of City Hall for his first love. I hung up and calmly tossed the wedding ring away. This marriage? I was done with it.

“Who am I supposed to be this time — the boy they love, or the man they lost?” Eli, a 25-year-old orphan who’s fought his whole life to survive, finally lands his dream job. But before he can take his first real breath of happiness, a freak accident claims his life. When he wakes up, he’s in the body of a 19-year-old boy with his same name, a rich family, and everything Eli never had. But behind the family’s perfect smiles lurk whispers of betrayal, greed, and death. Then, the memories come. Not just his own — but those of another man: a brilliant young CEO, poisoned by his own stepmother and stepsister. Two souls. Two deaths. One body. And one haunting question: Why him? As Eli’s worlds collide, so do the people who once loved them. — The CEO’s secret crush who swore revenge. — The orphan’s loyal boyfriend who refuses to move on. — The young heir’s fiancée who senses a stranger behind familiar eyes. Now burdened with three lives’ worth of pain, love, and unfinished stories, Eli must uncover the truth behind his rebirth… and decide whether this second life is a chance for redemption — or the cruelest punishment of all.

When my husband Joshua dragged his student Linda Moore into our apartment, I didn't even blink—I gave up the bed. Last time, it'd been pouring when he showed up with her in the middle of the night. Told me to crash on the floor with my daughter Mia and gave Linda the bed like it was nothing. I lost it. Fought with him, snapped at her. She bolted, slipped into a ditch, and supposedly drowned. Joshua said nothing. Then, one night, with the storm going wild outside, he pried open a manhole and dumped me and Mia in like trash. "Linda's my mentor's daughter. She's dead—how am I supposed to face him? You two can apologize yourselves." We didn't even get to scream before that freezing, disgusting water swallowed us whole. Turns out, Linda faked the whole thing. Just a twisted joke to punish me. Joshua moved her in right after, like nothing happened. Now, thunder cracked again as the door opened—and there he was, Linda right behind him.

I wasn’t even pregnant, yet I ended up popping abortion pills like they were candy. It was all because in my past life, the moment my widowed sister-in-law got pregnant, every single side effect of her pregnancy became mine. She strutted around happily with her big belly, consuming spicy tamales, while I was rushed to the hospital for violent nausea and stomach pain; she showed off her flawless skin in crop tops every day, while my stomach broke out in hideous stretch marks. When I told my husband what was happening, he just shoved me away impatiently. “Enough with the jealousy! My brother’s dead, and she’s carrying his only child. Of course, I should look out for her. Do you really have to put on such an act?” After that, my sister-in-law went even further. She kept testing her limits during pregnancy and even ate a mango she was allergic to. And me? I went into anaphylactic shock, landed in the hospital, and nearly died. Doctors couldn’t explain it. They just brushed it off, saying I was overly jealous and it was all psychological. Later, my sister-in-law tried to brand herself as a “hot single mom”. She went live, belly and all, to show off her weight-loss workouts. She jumped around for three straight hours. And me? My uterus literally gave out, and I hemorrhaged to death. When I opened my eyes again, it was the exact day she first announced her pregnancy.

For ten years, Autumn Lewis and Julian Carter were childhood sweethearts. After three years of marriage, all she got in return were injuries, neglect from her brothers, and betrayal from her husband. When Autumn found out she had stage-two stomach cancer, something in her finally let go. She picked herself up and rose from an unnoticed employee to a powerhouse in the tech world. As soon as the divorce cooling-off period ended, she tricked Julian into signing the papers and made a clean break. The next time they met, the ever-calculating Julian’s eyes turned red as he tore up the divorce certificate. “Autumn, I was wrong. We’re not getting divorced. If I could give you my stomach, I would—just please don’t leave me.” Her once-proud brothers now pleaded, “Autumn, forgive us. Your sister-in-law is filing for divorce. Could you spare us some money?” Just then, a man stepped out from behind her, lifted his shirt slightly, and sneered. “Autumn, why waste your time on these jerks? Look at me instead.” Indeed, affection that came too late was worth less than dirt. She didn’t care for it anymore.

I, Xavier Locke, had married the same woman, Melanie Slater, seven times. But for the sake of her first love, Leonard Blueman, she divorced me seven times. The first time we got married, she told me, "I'll only love you for the rest of my life." But every time Leonard came back to the country, she sang a different tune. "Can't you be more sensible? How can you bear to stand by and let Lenny be called a homewrecker who snatches a married woman from her husband?" The first time we divorced, I cut my wrists to make her stay. I was taken to the hospital in an ambulance, but she never showed up even once to see me. The third time we divorced, I humbled myself and applied to be her assistant at her company. I did that just so I could see her a little more. By the sixth divorce, I had learned to quietly pack my things and move out of the home we shared. My hysteria, my repeated backing down, and my tolerant compromises brought me nothing—just Melanie repeatedly divorcing and remarrying me. Time and time again, she pulled the same trick. With history repeating itself, I decided enough was enough. After hearing that Leonard was coming back again, this time, I handed her the divorce papers myself. As always, she set a date for our next remarriage. But what she didn't know… was that I was leaving for good this time.

After pulling an all-nighter to finish a group assignment, I wanted only one thing: sleep. I did not even get 10 minutes. My roommate, Ronda Jones, burst into the dorm, raging about class. She shouted into her headset and turned our room into a storm of insults and keyboard slams. When I quietly asked her to keep it down, she turned on me instead. Then the power went out, and a 5-dollar electricity bill became the excuse she had been waiting for. I refused to split it. That single decision set everything in motion.

My mother-in-law, Eleanor, was having a heart attack, and my husband, Ben Dover—a heart surgeon—was the only one who could save her. Did I call him? Nope. I just stood there, watching her gasp like a fish out of water. In my last life, I'd begged Ben to come save her. He brushed me off, accusing me of interrupting his time with his mistress, Ima Schit. No matter how much I pleaded, he wouldn't come. Eleanor had died in the hospital. And when Johnny, my father-in-law, demanded answers, Ben flipped the script, saying I'd never even called. He made Eleanor's death my fault. Johnny, blinded by grief and fury, killed me. But plot twist—I woke up. Right back to the day this circus started.

My roommate was a classic bimbo. When I went to arrange a jogging meetup, she mistyped it as a hookup and sent it straight into the group chat, then burst into tears and claimed she didn't know how to retract the message. When I went to meet my jogging buddy, she told everyone that she ran into my "hookup buddy." At the end, she even covered her mouth and giggled sweetly, saying, "I always mix words up." After a few stunts like that, my reputation was utterly ruined, and the entire class shut me out. Later, she used her "clumsiness" as an excuse to spike my milk with sleeping pills, causing me to miss a major exam. She even dropped toxic bacteria into my water cup and killed me outright. And all of it was over something that stupid: the guy she had a crush on had casually helped me carry my luggage on the first day of school. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very first day of freshman orientation. This time, I am going to let her experience what it felt like to be ruined—and killed—by a so-called idiot.

Amorah Andrea Michaels-Mateo Story (Love Shot Series #1) Having an amnesia, mas pinili ni Amorah na mapag-isa at hindi pumasok sa isang relasyon, lalo na nang malaman niyang isang lalaki pala ang dahilan ng kanyang pagka-aksidente 3 years ago. Isang araw, nang malaman niyang in-arranged marriage pala siya ng kanyang mga magulang sa taong hindi niya mahal, ni kilala ay nagbelde siya sa mga ito. From an obedient lady to being rebellious, ika nga. Sa disappointment ay niyaya niya ang mga kaibigang mag-club ngunit sa hindi inaasahang pangyayari ay aksidente niyang naibigay ang pagkababae kay Conrad- ang napakaguwapo, matangkad, romantiko at napaka-private na CEO ng Versalez Incorporations. Isang mainit na gabing ibig na sana niyang kalimutan, pero bakit ayaw na siyang pakawalan ni Conrad mula noon?