After I Died My Boyfriend Went Crazy Mga Nobela at Kwento

she chuckled, “so, does he know you are here?” “Actually,” I huffed and closed my eyes, opening them, I breathed through the mouth, “he is my boyfriend.” I saw the look of surprise on her face, she was probably not expecting me to blurt that out but she was in for a lot more surprises. “We have been having issues for a while now and I kind of broke up with him and when he got sick I didn’t bother to come see him and he has been telling me that he was innocent of what I accused him of but I didn’t believe him because of our past experience and now, I had a bad dream.” I was sobbing and I couldn’t believe it, why was I even telling her everything? But even though I asked myself that, I didn’t

"We're too late... Dead... for at least 48 hours... Dehydration, high fever... Organ failure..." My father's mind went blank before he felt the world spin. He grabbed the scorching metal container wall to steady himself. The child he had locked up here and the bloodline he had with his beloved woman was truly gone. Axel clenched his fists tightly, his nails digging deep into his palms. He looked at my frail body before the oven-like shipping container, a wave of overwhelming regret and pain washing over him. He now understood why I asked to let me find my mother as I rushed toward the driveway.

Just the right temperature, too. Anyone who sees Anthony may start to wonder why he’s this way, but when it seems like your loved one was almost at the brink of death, which was partially your fault, this is the exact reaction you’d exude as a human. I would know this because I had been this exact same way for weeks after I had lost my best friend and boyfriend to each other. And they hadn’t even been dead or hit by a truck to make them land in a hospital. They had simply just fucked each other and then fucked me over. So yes, I do understand.

“You good?” I didn’t know what to say. Was I? Well, apart from my supposed diagnosis, something I couldn't even process before breaking it down to my best friend, my mother was having a very difficult time. And my boyfriend— ex-boyfriend— happened to break up with me when he found the report lying on my table. Yep. No one wanted to live with someone who’s going to die anyway. At the end, the question hung in the air between us. I just turned my head and watched the Bugatti disappear down the road like a ghost too rich to haunt anyone for long.

I tried to speak, to form my words, but I was too baffled to do that, and when he saw my shocked expression, he chuckled out, it was sad, and I guess he did that in a way to heal his heart "The guy you saw in the picture was my boyfriend...No, he was the one that I wanted to get married to, but I was a douchebag, a complete fool, and just like you, I was depressed, a real depressed douchebag, so I left him, and he committed.. I stopped him, and placed my palm on his hand, and stopped him, cause I really didn't wanted him to go any further, or else I knew he might just break into complete million pieces, and there was really no need to go on when I had already understood everything

I panicked and tried to wipe them away, but my hands went right through her again. "Mom’s been dead for four years, and you’re still insulting her. You’re awful! Waaaah…" That’s right. I had been dead for four years. I died the year after our divorce. On the other end of the phone, disbelief lingered in his voice. "Dead? No way. Evil people live forever. Even if I died, she’d still be alive." Emma was devastated and furious. "You’re awful! I’ll never talk to you again. And I’ll tell Mom’s spirit not to love you anymore. I’ll burn all the things she kept of yours. Waaaah…"

"I just killed someone, mama." Her breath hitched at the title. I hadn't called her that since I was five. She soon got a grip, her scowl returning. "What on Earth do you mean?" "My boyfriend. We were hanging out at the arcade and then I and then we kissed and I don't know he...he died," I whispered, the memory of skin ripping resurfacing. She paled. "You kissed him?" "Yeah, I--" I paused. "Why do you sound so shocked at that?"

I fired at Dad, my voice rising to near-hysteria. My boyfriend had just died and the best they could do was hand me over to marry someone I’d never met? The cruelty of it made my chest ache with fresh grief. I raised my head to get a proper look at this so-called son, and the moment our eyes met, the world exploded. It was like being struck by lightning and wrapped in warm honey at the same time. Every nerve in my body suddenly came alive, singing with recognition and longing. An invisible thread seems to be pulling us together with a force that made my knees weak.

“Why do you keep trying to control everything in my life? You rejected me, remember? You have no right to tell me what to do when you're not my mate.” “But you don't even have a mate, Ashley,” Jason snapped at me, his nose flaring in anger. I swallowed back the lump forming in my throat, my chin jutting forward as I stared at him in defiance. “I had a chosen mate. His name was Zane. He died, Jason. I should be married now and perhaps pregnant, but he fucking died. Stop acting as if you weren't aware that Zane was in the picture!” “It's a good thing he died, because I could have killed that bastard myself before he made his vows to you,” he retorted.

The last thing I saw through the churning water was Nathan pulling Sarah to safety, not even looking in my direction. My heart froze like ice as consciousness faded. I had loved him for seven years, and with our unborn pup, but still meant less to him than Sarah. He even claimed the baby wasn't his just to justify saving Sarah first. And so I died, my body surrendering to the flood. My spirit floated in the air, watching Sarah being rescued. My mate held Sarah with pure joy of having her back, wrapping her in warm blankets. His pack member seemed unable to watch this and quietly reminded him: