Books I Can Read On My Phone Mga Nobela at Kwento

I accidentally hit my head in the shower. To my surprise, I find that I can hear my aloof housemate's thoughts. "Damn, he's got perky buns." I think of him as a regular housemate, but he wants to sleep with me?

Before entering the SAT venue, I suddenly realize that I can't find my admission ticket at all. That's when my rival, Sara Foster, texts me. "You're still dreaming of taking the exam, huh? Why don't you take a good look at what this is?" I see ripped pieces of my admission ticket floating on the water in the photo. I start trembling violently at the sight. Just as I'm about to ask Sara why she ruined my ticket, I see another text message from my childhood friend, Josh Hooper. "Remember when I told you to get into Calder College just so you could keep me company there? It's all a prank. I've given up on my guaranteed admission spot so that I can attend Westbrook University with Sara. "I was also the one who took your admission ticket away. I was worried that you might ruin my relationship with Sara by badgering us, so I've decided to make you repeat your senior year." That's when the exam bell rings. I can no longer hold myself together, so I slump to the ground in a fit of despair. The moment my vision blurs with tears, a live comment appears out of nowhere. "What are you crying for? Remember the guaranteed admission slot that Josh has given up on? According to the rules, it has been passed to the one ranked second, which is you!"

My world shattered when my husband, Caleb, rejected me for my fake sister, Susan. “Please don’t do this to me.”I begged for mercy, pleading for our unborn child's sake, but he don’t listen to me. “Sis, you shouldn’t have returned back.”Susan’s cruelty and Caleb’s indifference led to my brutal downfall. Locked in darkness, I faced death... but fate gave me a second chance. Reborn, I emerged with a fierce determination to reclaim my life and uncover the secrets that destroyed me. As I navigate the treacherous web of lies and deceit that was consumed by my family, I'm forced to confront the ultimate question: can I forgive Caleb and rekindle our lost love, or will the shadows of our past forever tear us apart?

As the end of the year approaches, my wife, Sylvia Small, who is five months into her pregnancy, accidentally falls into a lake. Our neighbor who is a police officer, Raven Weber, jumps in and rescues her. Unfortunately, she slips into a coma after her heroic feat. As I rush over, I see that a crowd has gathered at the scene. Sylvia is drenched from head to toe, wrapped up tightly in a blanket. Water droplets keep dripping from the tips of her hair. "Are you alright, Sylvia?" I ask, drawing near. The moment Sylvia sees me, she moves toward me and burrows herself into my arms. She clings to me like she is clinging for dear life. "You're finally here, Zach!" she exclaims emotionally. I frown and push her away. "Just say what you have to say. This suit is expensive. Don't dirty it," I said indifferently. My words make Sylvia's eyes go wide with disbelief and shock. But that only lasts for a second before an anxious look replaces it. She holds my arms firmly and says in a choked voice, "Officer Weber is in a coma because of me. Please transfer a sum of money to me so that I can thank her for saving my life." I glance at Sylvia impatiently and reply, "What's that got to do with me? Why should I transfer you my money so that you can give it to her?"

I'm the type who has the urge to overshare my life with him. It can be anything, be it the flowers blooming by the side of the road, the unpleasant coffee I end up having, or the sunset I've seen when I'm on my way home from work. Heck, when I think of Edwin Howell all of a sudden, I can't resist texting him at all. His replies are always short and perfunctory, though I suppose they count as a form of response from him. Hence, over the past six months, I've relied on these cold-sounding yet present replies to give me enough strength to deal with the engagement party, go wedding gown shopping, and choose the wedding venue all by myself. Somehow, I've managed to hang in there till the week before the wedding. But five days before the wedding, I discover an AI program that's installed within Edwin's computer. It can categorize every single sentence that I've sent to Edwin and extract the keywords. Then, it'll draft the most perfunctory responses that will never go wrong. If I miss Edwin, the AI will reply, "Mm-hmm." If I feel aggrieved, the AI will reply, "Got it." When I try to vent my frustrations to Edwin, the AI will reply, "Don't make such a big deal out of it." It turns out that Edwin isn't the one who has been responding to my need to overshare. The thing is, he has been texting another woman nonstop in another private chat. They talk about anything and everything under the sun, from exchanging simple good mornings and good nights to asking, "What are you having for lunch today?" and "Do you wanna go to the beach someday?" Finally, I realize that Edwin isn't the silent type who keeps his love in. If anything, he's the flashy type who will proclaim his love anywhere, anytime. It's just that… his love has never been mine to have. As for me, I've finally made up my mind to stop spending my life waiting for a response that will never come.

My seven-year-old son, Matthew Hayes, needs an Rh-negative blood transfusion very badly because he's gotten roped into a car accident. I roll up my sleeve immediately. "Take my blood, doctor! I have Rh-negative blood!" But my husband, Samuel Hayes, grabs my hand tightly. "Hold on, let me call another person! She also has Rh-negative blood!" I throw the divorce agreement at his face instead. "If she wants to donate her blood, she can go ahead and do that right after you sign this divorce agreement!" Samuel clutches the agreement angrily. "Have you gone nuts, Naomi Hart? Our son is waiting to be saved right now, and yet you're bringing up divorce at this time?" I gaze at him coldly. "That's right." My mother-in-law, Evelyn Shaw, rushes over and slaps me at that moment. "You vile woman! Samuel is worried about your physique, and yet you still kick up a fuss over this matter!" I don't bother dodging the slap. Then, I walk over to the doorway of the operating theater before announcing, "Doctor, stop all of your surgical preparations! As the patient's family, I refuse to donate my blood, and I refuse to let my son undergo the surgery!" Both Samuel and Evelyn are stunned by my declaration. Samuel points at me and yells in a quivering tone, "Back then, you almost died in the hospital just to secure Matthew's life! Are you trying to kill him now, Naomi?" I just look at Samuel emotionlessly. Heck, I can't be bothered to even show an expression right now. "I never forgot about those times. But that was in the past. Now, I don't want Matthew anymore."

Marcus's sixth patent had just gone through, and he said he was going to give me the grand proposal, the one that would close out four years of dating. The campus quad was covered in candles and roses. Marcus stood in the middle of it holding a bouquet, his eyes shining. He was halfway through his speech when his graduate student Claire threw herself into his arms. The plain silver band on her finger, identical to his, caught the candlelight. The crowd went still, then started murmuring. Every face turned toward them with the kind of look people get when they think they've stumbled onto a secret. And I was standing in the middle of that crowd. His girlfriend of four years, the one he had kept hidden the entire time, watching them hold each other. Watching him swallow the rest of his speech. Watching him hand my flowers to her. My phone buzzed in my hand. A message from S. "Sweetheart. Have you thought about it? We know we were wrong."

The financially disadvantaged student I was sponsoring secretly went behind my back and sold my small island, which was worth two billion dollars. I was furious and confronted her, but she publicly slandered me in front of the entire school. She exclaimed, "I saw you doing unspeakable things with eighteen men on that island! You're still young and you can't keep making mistakes like this. I sold the island for your own good!" I was so enraged that I kicked her to the ground and prepared to call the police, but my brother stopped me. He and my fiancé stood in front of the student, protecting her. They accused me of being violent and in need of medical treatment. Before I could resist, they joined forces and threw me into a psychiatric hospital, where I died that night from food poisoning. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day I discovered the island had been sold.

At the wedding door games, my best friend, Justin Winston, suggests that my fiancee, Tiffany Bastion, feel everyone's abs while blindfolded so that she can guess who the groom actually is. Amid everyone's cheers, Tiffany gives every groomsman a nice feel before shaking her head firmly. "This is too easy! If I can't even recognize my own husband, we might as well call off the wedding!" When Tiffany is about to touch me, Justin suddenly flashes me a mysterious smile. Then, he takes off his shirt and moves to stand in front of her. The next moment, Tiffany shrieks excitedly, "This is my husband! I can't be wrong about this!" Justin lets out a chortle. Then, he grabs Tiffany by the wrist and begins navigating her hand from his abs down to his groin. "Why don't you give this a good feel? Do you still think this is your husband?" Tiffany just smiles bashfully as she roams her hands all over Justin's body. As I look at the pair's overly intimate actions, I sneer at them before stuffing the wedding bouquet into Justin's hands. "Since you two are in sync with each other that much, you might as well host this wedding on your own."

My sister Iris almost died from anemia. The day she was hospitalized, my whole family started blaming me. I'd been frail since birth, so Mom and Dad had always poured all their attention into me. The new school supplies were mine, the new clothes were mine, and even on the birthdays we shared, the cream and chocolate part of the cake always went to me first. I used to hear Iris crying at night. But whenever I tried to comfort her, she just shoved me away. On my twelfth birthday, I came home from school with a perfect score on my test, beaming as I pushed the door open. Mom and Dad's eyes were red, and they looked at me as if I'd done something terrible. “Why can't you ever be nicer to Iris? We give you everything, and you should be thinking about her too.” “The doctor said her health problems are all because of how she feels.” “You're so spoiled, so selfish.” I lowered my head. They didn't know that I was frail because I'd made a deal to take Iris's death for her. Tomorrow, I was going to be erased.