Blurred Lines Chase Novel

"Sabihin na lang natin na pagod na ako sa paglalaro at nais kung tigilan na ito? Gusto kong mapalapit sa iyo dahil gusto kita. Nais kong malaman kung pareho ba tayo ng gusto o mali lang ang interpretasyon ko sa kilos mo?" "Hindi, tama ka," pag-amin niya. "Pero nitong hapon lamang ay sinabi mo na ako ay isang komplikasyon na hindi mo kailangan." "Over-analyzing is second nature to me. It’s helps me more often than I care to count. Ngunit hindi sa pagkakataong ito." "Parang hindi naman ganoon iyon," masuri niyang sinabi. "Marahil ay narealized mo lamang na walang magandang patutunguhan ang pakikipagrelasyon sa akin." "I don’t care about the future. Ang tanging mahalaga lamang ay kung ano ang narito at ang ngayon. " Humakbang siya patungo sa kanya, pagkatapos ay isa pa, hanggang sa halos malanghap na niya ang halimuyak ng kanyang balat. “Ano ang masasabi mo, Lara?" he asked hoarsely. "Handa ka bang makipagsapalaran sa akin?"

Kenneth's original intention is to take away Candy to save the marriage of Gabriel and Karen but during Candy's stay in his house, he eventually became attracted and fell in love to the beauty of Candy. Candy who has been hated Kenneth from the very first time that they met tried to hide her unwanted feeling for him. Fortunately, between hate and love relationship the two become one in union of marriage. However, Candy found out that Kenneth was just using her to finally inherit the company and he was planning to divorce her after two years when his ex-girlfriend, Camille Ramirez, came back from her career jouney. Another misfortune happened to Candy when one night after they returned from their honeymoon, she was rape right inside their matrimonial bedroom but the worst thing is, she didn't know who is the man in the dark. After all this misery and heartache could their true heart desire prevails?

"Let's just say I'm tired of playing games and want to quit this? I want to be close to you because I like you. I want to know if we both like each other or I just misinterpreted your actions?" "No, you're right," she admitted. "But just this afternoon you said I was a complication you didn't need." "Over-analyzing is second nature to me. It helps me more often than I care to count. But not this time." "It doesn't seem like that," she said deliberately. "Maybe you just realized that there is no good chance of success in a relationship with me." "I don't care about the future. The only thing that matters is what's here and what's now." He stepped towards her, then another, until he could almost inhale the scent of her skin. "What can you say, Lara?" He asked hoarsely. "Are you ready to take a risk with me?"

Nicholas’s first love was diagnosed with HIV at our hospital. I broke doctor-patient confidentiality and told him. Unfortunately, he thought I was lying. He not only accused me of killing a patient and got me convicted, and he even spiked my milk with abortion pills. At eight weeks pregnant, I bled heavily. I begged him for help, but he just walked away and sneered, "Finally, no one can stop me from being with Shereen." When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day his first love was diagnosed with HIV. This time, I didn’t tell him. Instead, I broke up with him. Since he loves his first love so much, I’ll gladly step aside.

I was diagnosed with stomach cancer, so I went online to hire an undertaker in the hopes that he would collect my body. That way, I could die and be buried. I would like to finally be at peace, even if it meant that I could only achieve it after death. I packed up my bags and left home in search of a place to die, only to receive a message from my undertaker. [Sorry, something came up. I can’t come now.] …Excuse me? I’m already half-dead, and you’re blowing me off?

At the age when I should have been attending university, I was framed by my biological parents and sent to prison. My sister had been cruelly killed by her kidnappers when she tried to save me, and they blamed me for her death. On the day of my release, I was kidnapped and had one of my ears cut off. When I found the opportunity, I immediately called my father, asking him to save me. Instead, he snapped, saying, “You’re no longer my son! Don’t contact me!” I was then burned alive. After I died, my sister returned. However, when my parents found out that the charred corpse was mine, the family crumbled.

My parents used the compensation money from my sister's car accident to buy a four-room house, but they only let me stay in the bathroom. My twin brothers, who were not even a year old, each had their own room. When the twins grew up, they got into a car accident. One of them needed a corneal transplant, the other needed a heart. My parents begged me to donate and save them. When I tried to escape, they betrayed me. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back to the time just after my sister's death. I sought justice for my sister and myself, and made my parents pay for what they had done.

I was a sketch artist acting for the police. On a secret mission, I was discovered by a murderer. My eyes were gouged out, and my body was dismembered, unceremoniously dumped in a garbage bin. On the brink of death, I called my boyfriend, a criminal investigator. However, he hung up on me because he was busy accompanying his first love to a prenatal checkup. A few days later, he received a painting that was a vital clue to finding the murderer, but he thought I was playing tricks on him. In his anger, he tore that portrait to shreds. After he found out the truth, he spent the whole night searching through the garbage to piece it back together.

On our tenth wedding anniversary, I planned a surprise for him. I hid in his studio. Instead, I found him inviting a university student to pose as his model. As she peeled away layers of clothing, his eyes lit up. "Exquisite. Truly exquisite. It's been ten years—and this is the first time I've seen true beauty," he said. Then he lunged forward, capturing her in a passionate kiss. My nails dug into my palm, hard enough to draw blood, but I stayed silent. For ten years, I had walked behind him, always in his shadow. I was tired.

I found a condom and a lace thong in the bathroom trash can. John and I had not been intimate in over a year, and I certainly did not own that kind of underwear. I thought about calling him, but then I came across a post from his god-sister of him passionately holding and kissing her foot. Though I was heartbroken, I did not cry or cause a scene. I turned off my phone and forced myself to carry on with life. Eventually, John finally noticed something was wrong. With red eyes, he asked, "Why didn't you care about me flirting with another woman?"