December Caption

When I was struck by a stomach illness, my boyfriend, Charles Fischer, was busy blowing out birthday candles with his assistant, Beverly Wagner. I lay there in excruciating pain, but he didn't even glance at me. Instead, he affectionately stroked her nose.  “Bev is a year older! Make a wish, birthday girl!” Later, after I had fainted and was rushed to the hospital, I called Charles, only for him to ignore me.  Meanwhile, Beverly posted a photo on Instagram. Gifts filled the screen, with the caption, [Yay! Charles is the best ever! Charles and Bev, together forever!] When I confronted him, Charles didn’t care at all. "It's Bev’s birthday. Were you expecting me not to spend it with her? If you can't handle it, we're done!" This was the umpteenth time he'd threatened to break up with me, always confident that I wouldn't dare to leave him.  Not this time.

My fiancé, Dominic, heir to the Carvalho crime family, vanished for four days. I thought a rival family had put a bullet in his head. Then I saw his ex’s Instagram story. A shot of them in bed. The caption: He still knows every inch of me. His face was hidden, but his hand wasn't. And on it, the ring I gave him, resting on her skin. That night, Dominic came home. He brought me white roses, my favorite. I asked him why. Why he'd lie. Why he'd sleep with her. He brushed it off. Just a "misunderstanding." I was done. I threw the ring in his face. Burned the wedding dress. Told him we were over. He thought I was just throwing a fit. He didn't get it. Not until he realized I was walking away for good. Then he panicked. Begged me to come back.

On Children's Day, the most popular social media post is about me. The caption is: "Mr. Shane Norton spends his birthday with his son David Norton and his first love, Ruth Feynman. Has he finally decided to divorce Ayla Sanderson?" I quietly press the "like" button. When my phone rings, I'm in the midst of taking down the balloons I put up for our wedding anniversary. "Honey." My husband sounds anxious as he tries to explain himself. "David suddenly insisted that we go to a theme park, so I—" In the background, I hear David laughing. "Dad, Ruthie says that I can sleep with her tonight!" I look at the mess in the house. The balloons are drooping, and the cream on the cake is congealed. "You don't have to explain," I hear myself say. "I understand." It's just that this time, I don't want you or David any longer, Shane.

On the day I miscarried and suffered from haemorrhage, my husband posted a photo of a newborn’s tiny feet on his Instagram Story. The caption read: “Welcome, little angel. Daddy will always protect you.” With trembling hands, I called him. “The baby’s gone. Can you come to the hospital?” On the other end, I heard a baby crying, followed by the man’s impatient voice. “In that case, take good care of yourself. Louise just gave birth and needs someone to care for her. I can’t leave. “Besides, the dead shouldn’t compete with the living for affection. Got it?” He hung up right after. I broke down alone on the hospital bed, and when I finally wiped away my tears, I dialed the number of his sworn enemy, Levi Snow. “Marry me, and the entire Wright Corporation will be my dowry. All I want is for you to bring Finn Yeaton down. Do we have a deal?”

Jenny posted a picture of me and her brother, who had an intellectual disability. The caption? "Finally, a happy ending!" The comments were all the same: "Is this your sister-in-law? She’s gorgeous!" I simply replied with a question mark, but Jenny ignored me and responded to someone else instead. "She's kinda my sister-in-law, yes!" It didn't take long for Steven to call me, his tone full of anger. "It was just a little edit, do you really have to blow things out of proportion?" Half an hour later, Jenny posted another photo of her sitting in Steven's luxury car, and even tagged me in it. "We may not be related by blood, but this big brother of mine has always been my rock!" Steven commented. "I'll always be here." I knew he was trying to get a rise on me on purpose to appease Jenny, but I didn't grace them with a reply this time. All I did was like the post and file for divorce.

A few weeks before our wedding, Rodney Luther's stepmother, Jessica Flaine, posts a photo on her social media. In the photo, she's wearing the wedding dress I picked out, holding a bouquet of red roses, and shyly leaning toward Rodney, asking for a kiss. The caption reads—"Dreams fulfilled." I don't call Rodney in tears or throw a fit like I used to. I simply like the post and leave a comment. "Screenshot sent to Rodney's father." Not long after, Jessica deletes the post, and Rodney's phone call follows immediately. "Ivana, you're being so petty! The rest of my days belong to you. It's only today that I'm fulfilling a small dream of Jessica's. Hurry up and explain things to my dad! "Come on, be good. I've got a gift for you." A scoff escapes me. "Rodney, do you hear me clearly? Go explain it to your father yourself!"

Scent witch, beautiful female assassin, or innocent tea shop owner? Mafia family's young master, terror vampire, or outstanding handsome genius? Gotha Edward Ethelbert and Coronis Emma meet on a snow-covered winter night in December, where the old tea shop has warm embers of a fire. He is a handsome genius with a cold and quiet personality who is a descendant of the illustrious Mafia family Gotha. She is a girl with a lively, innocent, and pure personality and a starlight smile. When fate brought them together, the genius Ethelbert discovered the hidden secrets behind Coronis's origin - a calculated assassin with a tragic past buried in the case of more than 15 years ago. A terrible fire destroyed the UVS orphanage. Even his true love is also not the real Coronis! More specifically, her always-hidden past is directly related to the Gotha family's bloody criminal scheme. His true background is also beginning to emerge. When everyone in the masquerade is wearing mysterious masks, Where will this love go?

[Sungguh kasihan ibu ini ditinggal merantau suaminya tapi tidak pernah dikirimi nafkah hingga mengharuskannya bekerja sebagai pemulung padahal suaminya bekerja di pertambangan. Naasnya lagi, saat ini anaknya sedang mengidap penyakit TB. Bagi yang mau membantu Ibu ini dan anaknya bisa kirimkan donasinya ke nomor rekening yang tertera di caption] Bayu terkejut saat melihat berita viral di sebuah akun di sosial media. Pasalnya yang sedang diberitakan itu adalah istri dan juga anaknya yang sedang memulung. Bagaimana bisa keduanya kekurangan hingga harus menjadi pemulung? Sedangkan setiap bulannya Bayu selalu mentransfer uang yang cukup banyak untuk istri dan anaknya ke rekening kakaknya yang bernama Sita.  Apa yang akan dilakukan Bayu?  Apakah Bayu bisa mengungkap apa yang dirahasiakan kakak dan juga ibunya selama dia bekerja? Apakah pernikahan Bayu bisa diselamatkan? 

On New Year's Eve, Facebook blew up. The reason was that Bennett Miles, the golden boy of Crestmoor’s elite, posted an update. In the photo, a shy young woman hid her face as she leaned against his shoulder while he grinned. His eyes were full of affection and mischief. His caption read, "What do I do? Looks like I'm officially taken." Friends in his circle flooded the comment section with congratulations. The real frenzy began when Bennett announced that the first 10,000 followers to like, share, and comment on the post would each receive a gold bar. The internet went wild with envy and curiosity. Everyone scrambled to find out more about the woman in the picture. Then, someone claiming to have inside information started a livestream. "Stop guessing. Her name is Kara Sierra. You know Sierra Hall at Crestmoor College? That building was named after her! "Two years ago, she had kidney failure. Bennett personally donated one of his own kidneys to save her!"

For five years, I was married to the heir of the Romano family, Italy's biggest crime family. Every night, he'd hold me and whisper, "Just give me an heir, and I'll give him the entire Romano empire." But I never got pregnant, and the Don's disappointment in me grew with every passing month. Until I found out my husband had been secretly swapping my folic acid for birth control pills. I was still reeling from the fury when I saw a post from his ex-girlfriend: an ultrasound photo. Her caption was sweet and smug: “Ten weeks along. Vincent said he can’t wait to meet the baby.” Seeing the flood of congratulations, my mind was made up. I found the contact info for my ex-boyfriend—the one who’d spent the last five years trying to get me back. I sent him a single text. 【Give me one month. Then I’m coming with you.】