Coming Back Home

He didn't stop when he reached her but leaned forward and kissed her hard, on the mouth. The air left her lungs. Maybe it was because it was her first kiss or because he had kissed her, she didn't know but her lungs were burning, her lips were on fire. She was one fire. It ended in a second. She stared at him with wide eyes as he stared back. His hand traced her forehead, nose, lips and then chin as it stopped on her throat. She knew, by God she knew he could feel her pulse, the heat on her cheeks. "I'm home." Dean Woodland left two years ago without a word or sound and now he is back to bring his belongings with him.

On New Year's Eve, I prepare a feast. The clock strikes twelve, but my husband, Vincent Porter, still isn't home. My daughter, Lorelei Porter, tugs at my sleeve and holds up my phone. "Look Mommy, Daddy is at this lady's house!" Vincent has posted an update on Twitter. He is with Christine Snow, his childhood sweetheart. They are smiling at the camera, with a boy who looks about ten standing between them. In front of them sits a swan-shaped cake. The caption reads, "The most special day for the most special you." My heart sinks into my stomach. A marriage that came later in life can never compete with a pair of childhood sweethearts. I accept defeat.

He straddled me, his hips swirling in slow, maddening circles. His body was right there, pressing into mine, and I couldn’t escape it; I didn’t want to. His hands found mine and guided them to his chest, and when my palms touched his warm skin, I was gone. My pulse was a blur of frantic beats pounding in my ears, drowning out the crowd's cheers and whistles. With his face inches from mine, Alec leaned in. His breath ghosted over my lips, his smile, cocky, knowing, playful, and somehow tender all at once. “You okay there?” he asked with an amused tone, and I opened my mouth, desperate to say something—anything—but nothing came out. My throat was dry, my skin was on fire and my mind was completely blank. All I could do was stare at him, completely mesmerized by how his body moved against mine and that wicked smirk on his lips. Before I knew it, heat pooled low in my belly, spreading downward, and I instinctively clenched my thighs together to stop the throbbing that ignited between my legs, but it was too late as I dampened the soft leather.

I see an anonymous poll online after Aidan Spencer returns to me and our family. "Does a man feel guiltier to his wife or mistress after cheating?" 99% of the voters chose "mistress". I turn to Aidan. "Do you agree with this?" He puts down his book, a hint of indescribable fatigue in his cool gaze. "I'm already back with you, Lily. What else do you want from me?"

Silver est une lycéenne qui vit une vie banale avec ses aimants parents et sa meilleure amie qui va voir sa vie basculer à cause d'une simple braise. Que ce soit au sens propre comme au sens figuré. La colocation avec le bad boy du lycée va la mener à sa perte. Isaac va-t-il réussir à lui cacher son plus sombre secret ?

Four years of marriage. One signature—his own—that set me free, though he never realized what he was signing. I was Sophia Moretti, the invisible wife of James Moretti, heir to the city’s most powerful mafia family. But when his childhood sweetheart, the dazzling and privileged Vicky, returned, I finally understood: I had always been temporary. So I played my final move. I slid the papers across his desk—divorce disguised as routine university forms. James signed without a second glance, his fountain pen scratching across the page as carelessly as he'd treated our vows, without noticing he was ending our marriage. But I walked away with more than my freedom. Beneath my coat, I carried his unborn heir—a secret that could destroy him when he finally realized what he'd lost. Now, the man who never noticed me is tearing the world apart trying to find me. From his penthouse to the underworld's gutters, he's turning over every stone. But I'm not some trembling prey waiting to be found. I rebuilt myself beyond his reach—where not even a Moretti can follow. This time, I won't be begging for his love. He'll be begging for mine.

Fhoreviy is a frustrated twenty-six year old woman who keeps looking for her main purpose in life and is in the brink of giving up. Naniniwala kasi siya na ang tunay na kasiyahan ay saka niya lang makakamit kapag nahanap na niya ang dahilan kung bakit siya nabubuhay. Pagkatapos niyang mag resign bilang isang grade three teacher ay kaagad siyang nag trabaho sa flower shop ng kanyang best friend habang patuloy pa ring hinahanap ang kanyang 'purpose' sa buhay. A day before her duty in the flower shop starts, she meets the major league superstar, Hinode Shinkei whose life has always been dedicated to baseball. Pagkatapos ng araw na iyon ay sunod-sunod na ang pagkrus ng kanilang mga landas. Two souls who have never been in love, united by fate. Panandalian ba silang malilihis sa mga prayoridad nila sa buhay? Isang magandang pangyayari kaya ang makilala nila ang isa't-isa, o ito pa ang magdadala sa kanila ng trahedya?

Manakah yang membuatmu tidak nyaman? Pertanyaan ini muncul begitu saja. Tidak adanya keharmonisan keluarga sehingga dirimu hidup bebas atau justru terlalu diikat? Keluarga yang tak utuh sudah biasa Ia rasakan. Namun hal itu masih saja terasa menyakitkan. Kekerasan yang diterima sudah biasa saat bersama keluarga yang sebenarnya, hal itu terjadi entah mengapa. Lalu bagaimana jika akhirnya ia justru terikat akan suatu pernikahan yang tidak pernah ia inginkan. Terlebih menghadapi pria yang posesif. Sebagian cerita ini diambil dari kisah nyata. Penasaran? Ikuti kisahnya yuk!! Oleh YL

Not even three years into their marriage could Gabriella Carrington capture Henry Toussaint's heart. Instead, following the return of Henry's first love, all Gabriella receives is a divorce agreement and a brutal slap from reality. "Will you still leave me if I'm pregnant?" Gabriella asks, in which Henry affirms adamantly. It was what it took for her to finalize the divorce and let her dreams die. Only, Henry seems to want a second chance now that she has finally given up.

My husband’s friend’s widow uploaded a picture of her pregnancy report. [Thank you for letting me have my own baby.] I responded with a question mark when I saw Jake Green, my husband’s name, in the husband column. Jake immediately called me to yell at me. “She’s a widow and is living alone. All she wants is to have a baby to keep her company and give her life a little more cheer. How could you not show her even this bit of pity? “You know that Henry is my friend. It’s only right for me to take care of his wife after he died! This is called friendship, don’t you understand?!” Soon, Henry’s widow uploaded a photo of a loft apartment. [Thank goodness you’re by my side to let me experience the warmth of a family again.] When I saw Jake busying himself in the kitchen in the photo, I thought it was time to end the marriage.