Novel & Cerita Does First Love Never Dies

When my son asked me about his father while crying once again, I pointed at the television. Samuel Shaw, who had just made it into the top three of the wealth rankings, was being interviewed. He said he had achieved fame and success, and the person he hated most was his childhood sweetheart and ex-wife. “She abandoned me when I was gravely ill, all for the sake of money. But it was that very betrayal that pushed me to rise from the ashes in my darkest hour.” The reporters grew excited and suggested contacting me on the spot. "She must be filled with regret, begging Mr. Shaw to take her back!" My phone rang right then. I answered and immediately asked for money. "Samuel, my son is sick. Could you lend me sixty thousand dollars?" He abruptly hung up the phone and said with a cold laugh, "Knowing she's living so miserably gives me peace of mind." Looking at the kidney failure report in my hand, I silently wept. Six years ago, I secretly donated one of my kidneys to Samuel. Now, his son was suffering from the same disease and didn't have much time left.

I had been married to Matthew Zackman for 20 years, taken care of my bedridden mother-in-law for ten years, and supported him as he transformed from a rural teacher to a well-known professor. Everyone called me a model of a virtuous wife and a great contributor to the Zackman family. When my mother-in-law was on her deathbed, she held my hand and said that she still wanted me to be her daughter-in-law in her next life. Matthew had held me in his arms and said gratefully, "Jamie, you've worked so hard all these years. I'll make it up to you in the future." I thought the hard times were finally over, but my mother-in-law had just passed away when he handed me a divorce agreement and embraced my best friend, who had grown up with me. He said, "Jamie Lingsworth, I've endured this marriage for 20 years and am finally free. Rosie is the one I've loved all along." I left the marriage empty-handed and was forced to wander the streets until a car accident ended my life. When I reopened my eyes, I had returned to the day of my blind date 20 years ago. The matchmaker was enthusiastically praising Matthew, "This young man is a diamond in the rough! He's kind and filial. Whoever marries him is one lucky woman!" I looked at the polite and sincere-looking man across from me and smiled. Then, I threw the matchmaking document in my hand into the trash can. "Sorry, I don't think we're a good match."

My body matured faster than most girls my age. When I turned 18, my overprotective brother worried I’d be taken advantage of, so he asked his best friend to look after me. But the first time we met, that man's eyes never left my body. After I graduated from college, he kept crossing the line, again and again. By day, he was my boss, and by night, I was his "personal assistant." For four years, we kept our affair a secret. He molded me into exactly what he liked, and the worst part? I let him. One day, his ex-fiancée came back from overseas. He slipped out of my bed in the middle of the night and rushed to the airport to pick her up. Humiliated but unwilling to let go, I followed him there, only to watch him gently stroke another woman’s hair right in front of me. He turned to me and said, "Jennifer Huckabee, four years ago, you were the one who crawled into my bed while I was drunk. The way you're behaving now… it’s really pathetic." The way he looked at her was soft, and the way he mocked me was sharp and deliberate. I suddenly realized he was right. This was meaningless. So I lowered my head, texted my brother to tell him I’d accept the Sinclair family marriage proposal, then looked up at that man and smiled. "Alright then. Goodbye."

She married him knowing one thing clearly: love was never part of the agreement. Their marriage was built on terms, not promises. A shared home. A shared bed. A public image to maintain. Nothing more. He was distant, controlled, and never cruel — but never warm either. To him, she was a wife in name, a solution to a problem, a role that needed to be filled. What neither of them expected was how silence could become dangerous. How intimacy without love could still leave marks. How wanting someone could come long before admitting it. As the line between obligation and desire begins to blur, she must decide how long she can stay where she isn’t truly chosen — and he must face the truth he never planned for. Because sometimes, the most dangerous thing isn’t loving someone too much… It’s realizing you never meant to love them at all.

My uncle’s rival, Emmett Meyer, saved me twice. The first time, I was drowning after a shipwreck—until he cut through the waves on a speedboat and dragged me ashore. The second time was after someone had slipped drugs into my drink. That night, I seduced him, a hardened man ten years my senior. In the dim glow of a private room, he guided my hand downward and growled, “I want you so bad, Babe.” He took me ruthlessly, ignoring my sobs and pleas. From then on, Emmett—the untamable “Prince of Silverbridge”—abandoned his reckless ways and devoted himself to me. Or so I believed. Then one day, he coaxed me into his Rolls-Royce and captured our tryst on camera. I flushed with embarrassment and secret delight. Later, as I hurried after him to return some documents he had left behind, I heard the sneers whispered in the hallway: “You’re so wild, Emmett. Everyone heard your girl moaning.” “Damn, the car rocked so hard I thought you’d break it.” “Hey, if Franklin Reed ever finds out that his precious niece has been your plaything for three years… think he’ll have a heart attack?”

The year Felix Gibson and I were most in love, we got married. After the wedding, I quit my job and devoted all my attention to him. But he thought I was too clingy and started seeing one woman after another on the side. I did not care because I knew they were just flings. That was, until he kept standing up for one of them repeatedly. When I confronted him, he casually said, "Lexie, she reminds me so much of how you used to be." I filed for divorce and moved abroad to focus on my career. Forget about being anyone’s second choice. I was determined to stand out on my own. Later, Felix came back, begging on his knees for me to take him back.

Nolan Shaw is the big shot on campus that everyone is intimidated by. He's also the guy I've been in love with for a while now. Out of nowhere, a new admirer of his pops out. She bears a striking resemblance to me. When I bring him his water, she beats me to it. When I write him a love letter, she tears it up. Finally, I muster up the courage to be honest with Nolan about my feelings—only for her to rush over and kick over the candles I prepared for the confession. That's when I finally lose my patience. "Just what on earth are you doing?" She ignores me and grabs Nolan's arm before saying, "I'll be frank with you. I'm actually here on a mission. You and Nolan will end up in a bitter marriage, hurting each other. So the system wants me to stop you two from being together." I don't believe a word she says, thinking that she's just lying to separate us. But at the very next second, I hear her thoughts. [Just what on earth did this scumbag do to make the 22-year-old Teresa fall so hopelessly in love with him? I bet she'll be heartbroken if she finds out that in the future, he'll find her boring and end up keeping 18 mistresses on the side. And after the divorce, he'll even make it hard for her to earn a living. She ends up dying of exhaustion, too!]

I have just been discharged after leg surgery when Victor Clark, my wife's former colleague who resents her for taking his position, drags me up to the roof and stabs me repeatedly. My wife, Melissa Lane, is the captain of the rescue unit, yet she is busy mobilizing everyone to stop her depressed first love, Ethan Hayes, from setting his rental apartment on fire. I don't call her to save me. In my previous life, I begged her for help. She abandoned Ethan and rushed to rescue me. In the end, I survived while Ethan died in the blaze. Melissa never blamed me. She said that Ethan got what he deserved and even promised me a surprise for my birthday a week later. But on my birthday, she drugged me, tied me to a bed, and drove a knife into me again and again. "You and Victor set me up that day, didn't you? Those stab wounds aren't even serious! You were never going to die! Since you like getting stabbed so much, I'll make it real for you!" When I open my eyes, I am back to the day Victor took me hostage. This time, I let Melissa go save her first love.

I was preparing a gift for our six-year anniversary when my best friend sent me a photo of my Alpha boyfriend kissing another she-wolf. "Wait, when did you get to Chicago?" The she-wolf in the picture looked a lot like me, but it wasn't me. That's when I found out that my boyfriend of six years had been searching for replacements for his dead childhood sweetheart the whole time. I was number 5. The she-wolf in the photo was number 18. I rushed to Chicago and tracked down Lucas using his phone's location. "Dude, this number 18 really looks like Ally, even more than Sophia does!" "Nah man, Sophia still looks more like her. She's number 5 after all - if she didn't look so much like Ally, why would Lucas have stuck with her for six years?" Lucas flicked his cigarette ash, looking completely relaxed: "They both look pretty similar, but number 18's way better in bed. Sophia's too uptight." "I heard you had someone pick out a diamond ring. You planning to propose? To Sophia or this new chick?" Lucas leaned back into the couch with a cocky grin: "Haven't decided yet. Why don't you guys choose for me?" I turned around, my whole body shaking as a chill ran from my head to my toes. After calming down, I texted my best friend: "Your Alpha cousin, the one who had a crush on me and waited four years - is he still single?"

"Ames, darling, you worry me." Linc Tanner, my billionaire stepfather breathes into the phone, and heat rises to my face at that damn nickname. That nickname coming out from his forbidden lips, capable of making my toes curl, my knees bent before him, taking all of him deep into my throat. ♠︎ ♠︎ ♠︎ The first day she came in contact with her stepfather, Amelia felt something shift in the air. Linc exudes menace. There's something about him that overwhelmed her. As the years passed—she found this magnetism toward him. It drew her in so deeply that despite knowing how wrong it was to find her stepfather attractive and lust after him, she couldn’t talk herself out of it. It was every shade of wrong. She should’ve been disgusted. Her pussy still clenched every time she thought about him, the way he looks at her, those dark eyes filled with a ring of lust and primal hunger. It melted her, it soaked her. It drenched her. When Amelia received a call to intern in her billionaire stepfather's company throughout the summer break, Amelia is terrified of what awaits her back in his New York City mansion where just three years ago after her mother's death and till now, she had been fighting against her treacherous feelings for him. He's been the only object of her wildest fantasies. Oh, the things she had thought about him doing to her, they were illicit. Filthy. Completely taboo. But Amelia is determined not to let her secret attraction override her judgments. Only if Linc would share the same resolve. She got the shock of her life when he didn't, and that is where the lines get blurrier for them.