Novel & Cerita And We Ll Never Be Royals Lyrics

Henry shouted, "No! Yelena, I will never divorce you! And the child—why did you never tell me about it?" His voice trembled as he spoke. He was probably regretting it, but what was the use of regret? We could never go back. No matter how hard he tried, it was over. "I will never agree to a divorce!" Henry insisted. "Don't joke with me. This isn't funny at all." So, he thought I was joking.

Because closure doesn’t always come with perfect words or final hugs. Sometimes, it comes in the quiet knowing: This chapter is over. And I’m not rewriting it.

Piers snarled. There was no sound coming from the other side for a long beat. It was long enough that it piqued Piers’ curiosity. What could that guy be up to? Why the silence? His question was soon answered when that unmistakable song came through his phone… “Never gonna give you up! Never gonna let you down! Never gonna turn around and desert you! Never gonna make you cry, never gonna say goodbye! Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you—”

I didn't have any regrets anymore. It was just a shame, really. I had fallen in love with him from the very start, but we were never meant to be. 'If I ever get another chance at life, I hope we won't meet again.'

Some had run straight into the open arms of Golden Aura — Charlotte’s company, the very empire he once thought would never match his. The irony burned deep inside him. The office door opened quietly. Marcel entered, his usual cheerful self dimmed by the heavy atmosphere. “Boss,” he called softly, walking toward the desk. “You’ve been staring at that wall for almost ten minutes. You’ll make a hole soon.” Nathan blinked, realizing he hadn’t even noticed Marcel enter. “Do you ever think about how quickly things change?” he asked, his voice low. “Yesterday we were kings. Today, we’re beggars waiting for mercy.”

Please don't leave me. I said nothing. "Is it… only when I die that you'll spare me a second look?" Tears welled up in my eyes, and I closed them. No matter what he said, it was useless, as everything would be over soon.

I said calmly, "she's standing here alone, being watched by everyone. How pitiful. Aren't you going to come up and keep her company?" His body jolted, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. He looked at Jess for help, then instinctively took a step back, trying to distance himself from the center of the storm. Pathetic. I withdrew my gaze and spoke into the microphone, delivering the final verdict. "From this moment on, Jess and I are officially over. Ten years—ends here." I tossed the microphone onto the stage. It rolled a few times, letting out a harsh screech—like a final lament. Then I turned and walked away.

Carmen cried, clutching her blouse. "Let's get a divorce," Dax mumbled, sluggishly resting back on the couch as he covered his face with his palm. Then he took a deep breath and softly said, "If you love someone, set them free," Sliding his hand down from his face, he gazed at Carmen and said, "And if they come back, they are yours. But you are not going to come back, right?" When Carmen didn't answer, Dax stood from the couch. Then he walked to her, stop, and softly uttered, "If they don't come back, they were never yours. I guess, you were never mine."

I asked with a smile and I saw her face full of nervousness. "I don't know what y-you're talking about T-Travis."she answered but was obviously nervous. "I'm young and the only CEO of Soul Empire so you should know how many women dream to marry me and there are others who want me to have a child with them. I've been almost drugged since I take over the position I'm holding right now, so you can't stand me the old way. "I answered her and handed her the water. "You said this water is safe, right? Then drink it."

And in the end, we didn’t become the people we once were. We became better. We had survived. We had grown. And for the first time, we could finally be together—not as enemies, not as victims of our past, but as partners in the truest sense. Because what we had now was stronger than obsession. Stronger than pain. Stronger than anything we had ever known. And I knew, without a doubt, that this time, it would last.