Ended Up Artinya

Price Inn's billionaire restaurant owner Daniel, a self-proclaimed insomniac, finds himself in an unexpected and unnecessary squabble with his ex-girlfriend Serena Waldorf. Determined to unlock the monstrosity hidden behind Daniel's charming face, Serena challenges him, upholding her vow to tame her sleepless ex-boyfriend. What starts as a game turns into a love debate, reigniting the lost passion and love between them. As they navigate the dilemma of whether to reconcile or separate forever, the CEO and his pastry chef find themselves embarking on a path to unveil their poignant pasts while parenting an orphan, Nathan who becomes the key to healing their solitary hearts. 

"Ad! Apa nama hubungan ini? Waktu pernah kasih kita kesempatan. Apa kita bisa miliki lagi?" Kedua mata kami saling menatap mencari jawaban. Kurvaku menurun. Begitulah aku memandang hidup yang ku jalani di akhir usia 20an. Di saat rencana tidak berjalan sesuai impian, apa aku masih memiliki mimpi tersisa? Tentang dia yang pernah berperan penting dalam hidupku, namun keasingan jadi pengganti keakraban antara aku dengannya. Jika aku bertemu lagi dengan Ad, apa aku harus menemuinya atau bersembunyi saja? karena sinarku sedang hilang, aku belum siap menampakkan sisi gelap dari masa lalu yang masih ku hindari. Perpisahan kala itu, membuatku ragu. Ada kisah antara kita yang belum tuntas. Apa mungkin itu tanda, untuk kembali memperjuangkan cinta atau lebih baik berhenti saja? Di masa belia kita kala itu, atau di masa kita terus bertumbuh, melewati berbagai fase hidup menjadi dewasa. Tentang aku dan Ad, apa sudah berakhir? Cinta ini akan bertumbuh dan menetap untuk dirinya ataukah dia?

The newly hired genius programmer was a proud woman who always thought she could turn the entire industry on its head. When an investor tried to pressure her into drinking, she flipped the table and slapped him across the face. "My worth is in my programming skills, not my ability to network. Asking me to drink with you is an insult." Enraged, Clint Warner immediately withdrew the eighty-million investment agreement. He even swore he would never work with us again. As the Head of Product, I scrambled to apologize. The situation was only salvaged after I drank so much that I ended up hospitalized. … Later, I complained to the boss and demanded that he discipline the new hire. To my shock, he dismissed the matter. "If the employee causes any problem, it's because the supervisor failed in their duty. The promised million-dollar dividend bonus is cancelled. Take this as your warning." Fed up, I wrote down Mary Hansen's name on the Counseling-Out List. She couldn't care less. "I have abilities you’ll never match, unlike a scheming bootlicker like you. If anyone tries to go after me, the project will be halted. Don't come crying to me when everything collapses." I did not argue with her then. However, when the Counseling-Out List was announced, I found my own name on it. The boss claimed it was a mistake to force me to leave. Then he promoted Mary to my position and even granted her the authority of a vice president. "You were only great because of the company's support. Mary's not the same. She's young and truly talented. She’ll lead us to greater heights." With a cold smirk on my face, I made my way to our competitor, taking the crucial piece of our company's technology with me.

My husband, Gavin Chapman, is giving his secretary, Natasha Gardner, exactly what she wants. He's making her his wife. To pull it off, he fakes a lab accident, pretends to have amnesia, and brings her home. In his office, Gavin wraps his arms around Natasha and murmurs indulgently, "Not just Mrs. Chapman. Even if you want to pretend to be the vice president for a week, I'll let you." My eyes dim, but I let the lie go on. The next day, at a press conference, Gavin holds Natasha's hand and tells the world she's his real wife. He even threatens to kick me out of the company and take over all my research data. Dozens of cameras swivel toward me, waiting for my outburst. But I stay silent and simply sign the termination papers. Gavin doesn't know that the pharmaceutical project he believes will be done in seven days isn't quite finished. There's still one final step, and I'm the only one who knows how to do it.

My husband had a severe addiction for physical intimacy. However, in the seven years of our marriage, he never touched me, not even once. To suppress his urges, he soaked himself in bone-chilling ice water every night. His arms were covered in needle marks from constant injections. It broke my heart to see him like that. I offered myself to him many times, but he insisted on simply giving me a restrained kiss on the forehead before saying, “Don’t be silly, Summer. I’m not like those animals. How could I ever bear to hurt you? For you, I’d gladly live the rest of my life in a platonic marriage.” This strange, almost obsessive restraint of his lasted seven years. Despite the numerous times he pushed himself far enough to end up hospitalized, he still refused to cross that line. Then, on our wedding anniversary, a young woman named Anna Brandt came in for her ninth hymen restoration surgery. After the anesthetic was administered, her cheeks flushed red. As her mind grew hazy, she started crying weakly like a lost kitten. Looking at the love bites scattered across her body, I shook my head and assumed she was just another girl who had gone astray. That was until I heard her last tearful whisper. “John Shaw, you jerk.” My hand trembled and I nearly dropped the scalpel. Because my husband’s name also was John Shaw.

On the Goldman heir's wedding day, I take a small bite out of a piece of cake because I am hungry from waiting too long at the ceremony. But my fiancee, Sheryl Wilson, slaps me in the face immediately. "You really are shameless! How could you eat in an occasion like this?" Dazed from the slap, I look at the other guests, who are staring at us at the moment. Having tasted copper in my mouth, I turn on my heel and approach the heir with a plate in my hands. "The cake's pretty delicious. Do you want a slice?" Sheryl started to panic. She's about to drag me away when the groom of the wedding takes a small bite out of the same slice. He remarks coolly, "It really is tasty. I'll have my men prepare 100 slices of cake for the woman who slapped you just now."

Heating starts on the 15th, so I give my mom the money to pay the heating bill two days in advance and ask her to pay it for me. But a week passes, and it still feels like an icehouse in my apartment. I am on the phone complaining to my younger brother's wife, Selena Lyons, who lives upstairs. "You are right not to pay the heating fee. I paid, and it made no difference. We're freezing to death here." From the other end of the call, I faintly hear my nephew shouting, "Mom, it's so hot! I want a popsicle!"

After landing a major project for the company, I receive a ring from my girlfriend, Kiera Ripley. I happily share a picture of it on my socials, thinking she was finally going to announce our engagement. But Kiera's newly hired assistant, Trevor Horton, suddenly slaps me hard and overturns my entire work desk. "You're a director, for God's sake! Don't you feel the least bit ashamed, stealing the present my wife gave me?" Trevor snaps. Not only does Kiera not retort to Trevor's words, but she even says I am not fit for my position as director of the tech department. She then announces to all the staff that Trevor will be taking over the project I just secured for the company. Only then do I realize that the person Kiera wants to publicly announce as her boyfriend isn't me, but Trevor instead. All the staff immediately raise their phones to record me, enjoying the spectacle that is my misfortune. But instead of getting angry, I shove my nametag into Trevor's hands and say, "Since Mr. Horton will be taking over the project, you can take over my position as director as well. I wish you two a long and happy life together!"

The day my husband, Lucas Maxwell, helps his childhood sweetheart—Cecilia Brown, who has cancer—lose her virginity, I leave behind a divorce agreement and walk away. Before I leave, I drop a comment beneath a photo of them on his social media. Their fingers are tightly interlocked in the photo. "Let's get divorced. I wish you both a lifetime of happiness." A minute later, he calls me. "How did I end up marrying someone as selfish as you, Fiona Sinclair? Do you really have the heart to let her die without leaving anything behind?" I sneer, "You're no longer my husband. How is that my problem?" That's when he panics.

After eight years together, I've proposed to my boyfriend 108 times. Each time, he found a different excuse to turn me down. On the 109th try, I give up a promotion and transfer opportunity. Finally, he said yes. I think he's moved by my sincerity. But instead, he brings his first love into our marital home and falls into our bed with her. "I only proposed to her to spite you. If you just say the word, I'll dump her at the altar and marry you instead!" Staring at the scene before me, I take the tight engagement ring off my finger and toss it down the drain. I decide to call off the wedding before he can. But after I walk away, the man who swore he'd marry someone else went crazy searching for me everywhere.