Did I Fucking Stutter

"I despise everything about him," Ayisha Duffel always says whenever her path crosses with Kian, the Academy's heir and campus crush. They don't get along, just like cats and dogs. Their relationship is perfect when they are on campus, but when they are outside the campus, they despise each other to the moon and back. How did it all start? Why has it gotten to the point where the relationship has already been contracted? Will they be real in real life? Will they truly love one another? But what if you know that the person you're learning to love's life is in danger? Can you give up your life for him/her? Come on in and let's figure everything out together.

One impetuous night gave them a gem and a lifetime of happiness. Izabelle had one-time sex with her crush, her cousin’s bestfriend after he was drugged. Later learning that she was pregnant, a misunderstanding flared where he believed that she had it all planned out. He agreed on taking responsibility but Izabelle’s desire was not to get into a loveless marriage and so she gathered her belongings and fled the country. Five years later, he saved a cute little bunny from child traffickers at the airport not knowing that the child was his. “You look like me, see? We have same eye colour,” the child pointed out. Then again, few minutes later when her Mother walked in, ‘Mommy, look I found daddy.” She raised her head to meet those icy familiar dark eyes. All Izabelle wanted was to keep her child away from Marcel but what about the sweet little thing holding onto his legs out of nowhere, batting her eyes at him and asking. “Will you be my daddy?”

What happens when love triumphs over vengeance? Audren had sworn to avenge his murdered mate, to kill and destroy the person who did this and everyone else in his family. He should have done that, he should have killed everyone, he shouldn't have spared her and taken her as his personal prisoner. Loving Iridessa was not part of the plan, and Iridessa falling in love with him too was not what she wanted to happen. They were both supposed to hate each other, she was daughter of the man who killed his mate and who he had sworn to kill and he was the person who killed her family, so how did this love happen?

This isn't your typical Cinderella or damsel in distress tale. Briella served as the CEO of Star Airlines. Beautiful, successful, and badass. Despite her wealth, her parents never loved her as much as they did Sage, her step-sister. Sage wasn't particularly bright. She spent her parents' money and manipulated them to get what she wanted, but she was still the most loved. Sage was engaged to be married to a business tycoon with operations all over the world. A day before the wedding, she changed her mind. Why? She didn't want to marry him because she had found someone better. Briella had to step in and be the bride because their parents and Kendrick's parents refused to cancel the wedding. Was she willing to spend her life with someone she'd never met? When Kendrick's wife loses her memories of him, the tables are turned. Will his efforts be fruitful?

I'd been "married" to Zachary for two years—until I tried applying for a loan and the bank's system flagged someone else as his legal wife. Our wedding? Just a private show. The real marriage license had his name next to hers. So yeah. I wasn't the wife. I was the other woman. Crushed, I went home—only to hear Zachary talking to his friend, Ethan, by the door. "Man, watching you stress is exhausting," Ethan said. "You clearly love Sierra. So why marry Cathryn?" Zachary looked torn. "At first, she was just a stand-in. But when she left, I couldn't stop thinking about her. So I brought her back—as my assistant." He paused, then muttered, "I can't live without Sierra. But I can't let go of Cathryn either. So I gave Sierra my love in public and kept Cathryn hidden with the title. That's fair, right?" I stood frozen, heart splitting open. He loved us both. Me—his childhood sweetheart. Her—the hidden wife. I thought I was the one. Turns out, I was just the game. He didn't break my heart. He shattered my whole world. But I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I walked away. And started planning two things.

Today was like the day I met him: Me, riding a bicycle and him, walking down the pavement. I grab the handle of the bicycle and watch him as he make his way towards me. I do not know why I feel nervous. A trickle of sweat drip on the side of my face, my heart beat fast and I could hardly breathe. He was meters away, until it grow shorter to a foot and then bam, he bumped into me and we fall down, him on top of me. This felt like a deja vù, like it was our very first encounter. We scurried to get up but ended up bumping our heads together. I glared at him as he got up, He didn't even offer me a hand. He didn’t even give me a second glance. He just passed by me. Not noticing me. Not even looking at me. I let go of the bicycle and turn to face him. I remove the helmet that I was wearing and grip it tightly before screaming, “YAH! My hands curled into a fist and before I know it, the helmet I was holding was already flying towards him.I raise my hand as if to save him but it collided on his head right before I could even react. It sounded a hollow thump and a pronounced groan. His hands made his way to the back of his head as he turn and face me. With those eyes that seem like it was murdering me, he chase me off and I hastily took my bicycle and ran. I couldn’t help but feel happy instead of guilty as he ran after me. This was like before. This was like that summer, that summer I met him.

After getting fired from my company, I returned to the countryside, spending my days playing rummy with my grandmother, but my entire family went insane, searching for me everywhere. It was because my younger sister, the family's prodigy jewelry designer, couldn't come up with a single design after I left. In my previous life, at the National Jewelry Design Competition, she managed to produce designs identical to mine before I even finished mine. Everyone assumed I had copied her work. Even my own family testified in her favor. The company accused me of misconduct and plagiarism, claiming my actions had tarnished their reputation. I was fired on the spot and ordered to pay a huge fine. My family, seeing me as nothing but a burden, threw me out of the house. Crushed by the weight of family betrayal and public judgment, I fell into depression, only to be killed on the street by one of my sister's obsessive fans. As my consciousness faded, I couldn't understand why my sister managed to create the exact same design before I did. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day I just signed up for the National Jewelry Design Competition.

A deal between families forced my Fiancé Marco Corvini to marry me. My parents were dead. His obsession was Isabella Falcone, the princess of our rivals. In the end, Marco devoured my family’s empire and threw me to the wolves. He paraded Isabella on his arm like a prize he’d won. Twenty years later, I was on my deathbed. My own son—our son—held the poison. He said I was useless, that his father needed the Falcone family’s power. Then I opened my eyes. I was back. Back on the day of my blood oath. This time, to save my family, I didn’t sign my name on the pact. I signed hers. Isabella Falcone’s. As for me? I took the fortune my parents left me and disappeared. This time, I wouldn’t be the fool bleeding for a man who was never mine.

Whenever Rachel Cooper loses it, I know I'm about to get divorced again. I close my eyes. "We are divorcing for the ninth time." Marcus Miller massages his temples and says regretfully, "Vivian, Barry died all of a sudden, leaving his wife and her unborn baby behind. I can't ignore them. Relax. Once the baby's born, we'll remarry. We won't separate ever again!" I remain silent. I already heard this promise eight times before. Barry Miller's sudden death is the reason for Rachel's breakdown. It also caused Marcus and me to divorce for the first time. Back then, Rachel was already pregnant, prompting Marcus to divorce me. He will remarry me once he has comforted her. Over the past nine months, we have married and divorced eight times. Everyone mocks me by calling me the Eight-Ring Wonder. I also find it ridiculous. After I accept the divorce certificate, one of the court staff secretly asks me, "When are you getting married again?" I answer calmly, "There's no next time."

The 99th time Owen Anderson slides a ring onto my finger, his adopted sister, Monica Morgan, calls again. And just like that, for the 99th time, he ditches me at the altar to be with her, who's having another depressive episode. I'm fed up. I yell after him as he walks away, "Go ahead! Walk out on me, and I swear I'll marry someone else!" He doesn't even flinch. Instead, he snaps, "Can you stop being so unreasonable? We can get married anytime, but Monica's the only sister I've got." Then, he turns and walks away, leaving me standing there like a complete fool. What he doesn't realize is that this time, I mean it. Later, when he gets down on one knee for the 100th time, his older brother, Chris, slips an arm around my waist and says, "Sorry, Owen. She's your sister-in-law now."