Buriki No Dance Lyrics

On my birthday, I personally prepare 16 dishes. After setting up the candlelight, I open a bottle of red wine. I take a photo and send it to my husband, Eric Sinclair. "I'm working late tonight. Don't wait for me," he replies. I choose to believe him. But after midnight, I notice an Instagram story posted by Shirley Huxley, his secretary. Eric was there with her, dressed in the trench coat I once gave him. They sat side by side in the VIP seat of football stadium where my favorite Super Bowl take place. Entwined in a passionate embrace, they kissed beneath a sea of shimmering lights and the roar of thousands of fans. That game is the one I have always longed to experience with him. I look down at the cold food on the table. Eric's words keep ringing in my head. "I hate kissing." "Marriage is a partnership, not about love and kisses." Though we've been married for ten years, we've never shared a single kiss. Meanwhile, he's out there, kissing Shirley openly and passionately. Despite it all, not a single tear falls from my eyes. The next day, Eric settles into his chair, completely unfazed. "Return the gallery to Shelly," he commands. I nod quietly, saying nothing. Suddenly, Layla Sinclair, my daughter, comes running down the stairs and throws herself into Shirley's arms. "Aunt Shirley, you're my favorite. I don't like Mom!" In that instant, it hits me—the home I devoted my heart and soul to means nothing anymore. It doesn't matter that I've been married to Eric for a decade. Now, all I want is to find myself again. I decide to accept an invitation from the Parisoir School of Fashion Design. From this moment on, I won't wait for them to come home, and I won't look back.

She planned perfect weddings for a living. Too bad her own marriage was a lie. Dahlia Miller was the secret wife of Sebastian Hawthorne—billionaire, CEO, and a man who treated love like a business contract. She endured his cold indifference, his ruthless family, and the loneliness of a marriage that only existed on paper. Until the night she discovered the truth. Sebastian wasn’t just distant. He belonged to someone else. So Dahlia did the one thing no one expected from the obedient Mrs. Hawthorne. She left. Now she’s rebuilding her life on a forgotten farm, turning broken land into beautiful beginnings for other people’s love stories. But Sebastian Hawthorne doesn’t lose what belongs to him. He refuses to sign the divorce papers. And the longer he stays, the more dangerous the truth becomes. Because Dahlia isn’t just hiding a broken heart. She’s hiding his child. And the problem with walking away from a man like Sebastian Hawthorne… is that he always comes back to claim what’s his.

First thing Leah Labelle did after Andrew Fillion's funeral? Ask her husband Ian for a divorce. Why? Because Ian's entire family thought the perfect way to honor his dead brother was to knock up the widow. Naturally. "My parents are threatening to hang themselves or starve, Leah. What was I supposed to do? It's just IVF with Cecilia—we're not even doing anything. Why are you making this a divorce thing?" Leah shut her eyes. Her chest cracked open, and the tears she'd been holding finally broke free. "Ian, we're MARRIED. You seriously don't think this is next-level insane?" Her husband was about to have a baby with someone else. But sure—she was the crazy one.

When the ruthless heir of a crime syndicate comes to collect an old debt, Jade's world shatters. His father owes money he can't repay, and his desperate solution is unthinkable. He offers Jade's underaged sister as a bride to the merciless Salvatore Domenico. But Jade won't let his sister be sacrificed. Instead, he steps forward, offering himself in her place. What Jade doesn't know is that Salvatore has been waiting for this moment. Years ago, Jade's powerful family branded Salvatore's father a traitor and had him killed. Now, Salvatore has returned, not for money, but for revenge. Taking Jade into his world of blood, loyalty, and violence should have been the perfect punishment. Yet, the closer Salvatore draws him into the shadows, the more the line between vengeance and desire blurs. Revenge was supposed to be sweet. But Jade tastes like something far more dangerous.

Mi prometido me pidió matrimonio en un puestito callejero, pero a ella le juró amor eterno en un yate de lujo. A 48 horas de la boda, lo dejé.

I begged my husband ninety-nine times to go with me to Jay Boone's concert. On the hundredth time, he finally bought two front-row tickets. Dressed to the nines, I was stopped at the entrance by security because I couldn't produce my ticket. By the time the concert ended, I still hadn't been able to get through to him on the phone. News broke that my husband and his young girlfriend were at the concert, requesting "Sunny Day" from Jay Boone. The story shot straight to the trending charts. There's no rain in the lyrics of "Sunny Day." Because the only world caught in a torrential downpour was mine.

No dia em que a cunhada do meu marido, que morava sozinha, entrou em trabalho de parto, o meu marido me arrastou à força para o hospital para induzirem o meu parto, mesmo eu ainda estando só com sete meses de gestação. Ele me trancou na sala de parto, com a expressão tensa, e falou, desesperado: — Agatha Braga, o bebê que a Daise Diniz carrega tem uma doença raríssima. Se nascer assim, vai morrer logo que vier ao mundo. O médico disse que precisa do sangue do cordão umbilical e de células‑tronco especiais colhidas durante o parto pra salvar a vida dele! Meu irmão já morreu, eu tenho a obrigação de cuidar dela e da criança! Quando a agulha de dez centímetros para induzir o parto entrou no meu corpo, as contrações me rasgaram por dentro de um jeito que eu comecei a suar frio. No meio daquela dor, eu encarei o rosto dele e questionei, quase sem fôlego: — Eliel Paiva, a gravidez da Daise sempre correu bem. Como é que, de uma hora pra outra, o bebê dela tem uma doença tão rara? Eu é que precisei segurar a gravidez o tempo todo, e mesmo assim você quer que o nosso filho nasça antes da hora. Isso não é só acabar com a vida dele, é acabar com a minha também! Eliel franziu a testa, me segurou com força e me prendeu na cama do hospital: — Agatha, o médico já explicou. É só fazer o nosso filho nascer dois meses antes. Não vai acontecer nada com ele! Quando ele ouviu os gritos de dor da Daise na sala ao lado, pareceu se lembrar de alguma coisa. Me lançou um olhar cheio de desconfiança e disse: — Não vai me dizer que, só porque eu vivo cuidando da Daise, você quer aproveitar essa chance pra se livrar dela, né? Eu já te falei que só cuido dela por causa do meu irmão. Como é que você consegue ser tão cruel? Eu senti o sangue escorrendo por baixo de mim e comecei a chorar de desespero. Agarrei o pulso dele com o pouco de força que me restava e supliquei, com a voz quebrada, que, se ele poupasse o meu filho, eu aceitava o divórcio e deixava os dois livres pra ficarem juntos. Eliel me lançou um olhar impaciente, gelado, e respondeu: — Você está delirando. Eu sou o pai do nosso bebê. Como é que eu ia querer fazer mal pra ele? Quando o sangue do cordão umbilical do meu bebê e as minhas células‑tronco foram usados no bebê da Daise e o médico anunciou que mãe e filho estavam fora de perigo, só então o Eliel se lembrou de que também tinha uma esposa e uma criança esperando por ele em outra sala. Mas, quando ele empurrou a porta do meu quarto, não foi o choro do nosso bebê que encontrou. Sobre a cama, esperavam apenas dois pedaços de papel: as duas certidões de óbito: a minha e a do meu filho.

Durante cuatro años fui su secretaria y durante cuatro años calenté su cama. Lo sabía todo, desde los negocios de su familia hasta los secretos que me susurraba por las noches. Pero para él, yo no era más que un juguete al que podía recurrir cuando quisiera. En cuanto su primer amor, Sofía Costa, regresó al país, él me humilló sin pensarlo dos veces. La besó en una iglesia de Sicilia, me abandonó en una carretera, empapada por la lluvia con un corte de veinticinco centímetros en la pantorrilla, y luego me despidió con una frase fría y mordaz. Dijo que yo era alguien sin importancia, alguien a quien simplemente podía ignorar. Ella agitó el tulipán de peluche que él le había obsequiado delante de mí. —Yo soy la única a la que ama. Tú solo eras una sustituta. Mientras reconstruía mi vida en Northport y por fin encontraba algo de paz, este despiadado Don de la mafia se arrodilló frente a mi puerta, con los ojos rojos de emoción. —Elena, vuelve conmigo. Pateé su mano lejos con una sonrisa. —Tu supuesta devoción me repugna.

My name is Cedric Bainbridge. For six years, I've been hiding the fact that I'm married to Beatrice Thorne, the CEO. Despite everything, she won't allow our son to call her "Mom". Once again, his birthday slips her mind. Her thoughts are entirely consumed by her male secretary. I've had enough. I sign the divorce papers and walk away with our child for good. For the first time, Beatrice, who is always so calm, completely loses control. She storms into my office, demanding to know where I've gone. But this time, neither my son nor I will ever look back.

The evening air was biting cold, sending shivers down Cole's spine. She was sure she'd turn into an icicle when, without warning, Vincent gently scooped her up. A soft gasp escaped her lips as he settled them both across the length of the bed, pulling her close as he draped an extra blanket over their entwined forms. A warm blush bloomed across Cole's cheeks as she became acutely aware of their intimate position. But Vincent, with his steady composure, seemed entirely unbothered, simply relaxing into the bed’s softness. "Get some sleep," he murmured, his voice a soothing rumble that resonated in her chest. Sensing her gaze, he added, "The power will be back on once the damage is repaired. So… just stay close to me until then." Cole took a deep breath, willing her racing heart to calm. Slowly, she let herself melt into his embrace, resting her head on his broad chest. The faint scent of spring blossoms and cypress swirled around her, a fragrance that felt both comforting and familiar. She nestled closer, the warmth of his body chasing away the chill as sleep began to tug at her eyelids. With each steady beat of his heart, Cole felt a sense of peace she hadn't known she needed. She smiled softly, the rhythm of his heartbeat the most beautiful melody, lulling her into the comfort of dreams. As survivors of a collapsed society, a group of doctors are the world's last hope for a cure. In order to protect each other and the future, they've worked in secret. Preserving resources which become scarcer year after year. Among these survivors, a pair of doctors endure challenges as a deadly contagion spreads. Against better judgment, an unexpected bond develops between them and their patient.