Ga-ram Our Blooming Youth

I worked for a restaurant, and our boss loved making empty promises about giving us restaurant shares. The boss said we would start with zero shares, but we could earn 0.01% for every two hours of overtime, covering someone else’s work or saving the restaurant 1,000 bucks. I suggested she write this down in an official document and have someone track it properly. She just smiled and told everyone to work harder. She never actually put it in writing. The experienced staff did not believe her, but one prep cook took it seriously. At the end of the year, he went to the boss to claim his shares. The boss said, “Sorry, the head chef told me there’s no official document, so it doesn’t count. You can’t claim any shares.” The prep cook worked hard all year and got nothing for it, so he took his anger out on me. The day before I was going home for the New Year, he killed me with a knife. “If you hadn’t said it doesn’t count without an official document, this whole restaurant would’ve been mine!” I lay in a pool of blood. When I opened my eyes, I was back to the day the boss first made those empty promises.

On the day Luke Smith attended his dear friend's funeral with his child, the media swarmed around me, questioning if I was the child's biological mother.Luke Smith, the high-society sensation, adored by all.For seven years, I was his secret lover, and how he spoiled me was the talk of the town.But eventually, he said, "Hazel, she's just a minor celebrity. What makes her think she can marry into the Smiths?"Indeed, his later wife, hailing from a prestigious lineage, epitomized grace and charm. Her only flaw was her inability to bear children.Facing eager reporters, I smiled, "I hardly know Mr. Smith. With that said, I wish him and his wife a lifetime of happiness and a joyful family."The news quickly went viral online.That very night, Luke Smith, disheveled and troubled, embarked on a long journey to San Anglos with his child.

Every year, my husband, Daniel Trahan, elopes with his childhood sweetheart, Callie Reed, on our wedding anniversary. On that day, they do everything that a loving couple does. On our fifth year anniversary, Daniel ordered me to put on a maid's outfit and serve them on hand and foot for 24 hours. "You've always wanted me to spend more time with you, right? I'm giving you a chance right now. Tomorrow, I'll come home and have one meal with you. "By the way, Callie's lower back hurts. You'll have to support her whenever she needs you." I complete all of my tasks obediently. When we meet up the next day, I hand him a divorce agreement. Daniel scoffs at the sight. Then, he drops his signature casually. "Oh? Are you playing hard to get again? Every time, you'll end up begging me to return to you while crying like an abandoned pet. If you're that eager to let everyone see how big a doormat you are, I shall grant your wish. "When you come crawling back to me this time, I'll stream the whole thing live so that everyone can see how spineless you are." Daniel thinks I'm throwing another tantrum this time. What he doesn't know is that the day of his elopement with Callie is also the day I get to go on my private date. Now, that lover of mine demands a proper title from me.

Jake, the guy I used to work with. The guy that I had unspoken tension and chemistry with from the first day we met. I say unspoken because nothing was ever said or done about it at the time. Why? because we were both in relationships. The last time I saw him was over a year ago, and a lot has changed since then, well some things. I was single, he was still taken, and that should be enough to keep me at bay, right? Wrong! One night we meet at the club and everything changes. I become the kind of woman I never thought I was, the kind to go after another woman's man. And he becomes something he never thought he was either, a cheater. It was only supposed to be a one-time thing, but it was like the moment we had a taste, we keep coming back for more. Temptation is a hard thing to fight, and I guess in this case, it is a fight that we both lost.

Amara Larkspur and I have been dating for seven years. But she claims that she's sick of me, so she quickly finds herself a younger lover. I don't kick up a fuss at all. All I do is throw away the engagement ring and take down the decorations of the proposal venue. After that, I leave the city where I got my heart broken. All of Amara's friends keep speculating just how long it'll take me to crawl back to her this time. After all, everyone thinks of me as her ultimate simp. However, this time, I never return to her side. Amara finally panics and calls my number. "Ryan Crawford, if you don't return to me right now, we'll break up for real!" But all she hears is a feminine voice that lets out a soft titter. "Ryan is bathing at the moment. I can help you pass the message if you'd like."

On the day I was supposed to get engaged to my childhood sweetheart, Noah Pratt, I escaped. As I flew out of the country, I deleted all forms of contact with him. Six years later, I had to return to oversee the moving of my parents’ graves. At the entrance to the cemetery, I bumped right into Noah. He gripped my wrist while gazing at me with red-rimmed eyes. “Why did you run away?” he asked. He had grown very thin. Heavy bags were under his eyes. It was as if haunting dreams had plagued his nights. “Because I didn’t want to marry someone I didn’t love,” I replied. He swayed on his feet as if the rug had been swept from under him. “Is there anything else?” I asked. But he remained silent. I waited patiently before walking past him. I had not lied. Indeed, I had burned out that love for him in the first three years I spent overseas.

For another girl, Lex Hamilton—my fiancé of several years—dumped me in the middle of nowhere and left me to fend for myself. Three years later, he showed up with her to bring me back. "It's been three years," he said. "Even a dog would've learned its lesson by now. I did this for your own good. If you don't fix that attitude of yours, don't expect to ever become my wife." They thought I'd crumble. They thought I'd beg, cling to him, and unload all the pain and humiliation I'd carried for the past three years. Instead, I smiled. "Sorry, Mr. Hamilton. I'm already married."

At the bachelor party the night before the wedding, the truth-or-dare penalty was brutal—show the most hidden photo on your phone. Gina, Peter's so-called "girl bro," lost. She just grinned and cast her screen onto the big TV. A marriage license filled the screen, stamped by the county clerk. Names: Peter Cooke and Gina Draper. Date: yesterday. The room went dead silent. I stared at Peter's drained face. Gina didn't flinch. She patted his shoulder. "Oops. Guess you found out. Joey, don't take it seriously. Just a dumb bet. I wanted to see what the county clerk's office looked like, so I dared Peter to register a marriage with me." She leaned in, eyes on me like I was the joke. "You're still getting your wedding tomorrow. The vows, the ceremony. I just borrowed your fiancé for a stamp. Don't tell me you're jealous of his buddy." Peter jumped up and pulled me in. "Babe, listen. You're the only one in my heart. It was just a joke." He pulled out the diamond ring, dropped to one knee. "I'll file for divorce first thing tomorrow. It won't mess up our noon wedding. Invites are already out. Don't make this a scene in front of my friends. Once we're married, all my money's yours, okay?" I smiled. He had no clue how any of this worked. Didn't even know divorce came with a thirty-day wait. I didn't take the ring. I pulled out my phone and blasted a group text canceling the wedding.

Jada prayed and asked God to provide a miracle that would be a solution to her family’s problems. They had always been poor, but this was the worst situation they had ever been in. Her father had to be taken to the hospital two weeks ago, and she had become the sole provider for their home. Marilou had given them what money she had that she could to help, but she wasn’t exactly rolling in money herself. The young girl had a huge responsibility placed upon her shoulders, but she was determined not to lose their home or have the children sent to foster care. She had been waiting tables and using her tips to buy gas and groceries, but it was barely enough most days. Her paycheck had not been enough to pay all the bills since her father had let them get so far behind. Mrs. DeRoya cleared her throat, signaling that she would answer the girl. “Miss Pence, I only had one child, my son Brayden here. My husband was also an only child. So, unless Brayden produces an heir, our bloodline here in the United States is lost. What we need is a surrogate to carry the child. If you sign the contract, when the child is born you will receive one million dollars to take your siblings and go have a good life,” she said, staring at her without emotion.

At the celebration where Lorenzo Alvarez is crowned the new mafia boss, his men arrange a few performances. A dancer in a backless top and short skirt twists around the pole under the lights. "Don't look," he murmurs, covering my eyes with his hand. "This kind of cheap entertainment isn't worthy of you." His men jump in immediately. "Lorenzo still spoils Ms. Valenti after all these years. That kind of devotion is rare. We're so jealous." "A man as loyal and single-minded as Lorenzo is hard to find." I rest a hand on my belly, planning to tell him tonight that I am pregnant. But when I return from the restroom, I see the same man who had just held me in his arms leaning back in his chair while the dancer straddles his lap. Lorenzo slips his business card and a thick fold of cash into the waistband of her skirt. He laughs, relaxed and unbothered. "Isabella is wonderful, sure, but life needs a little passion. This ragazza is just something new. A bit of fun. "Keep your mouths shut. Don't go running to Isabella and upset her. Otherwise, you'll have a problem." Cold rushes through me. I do not approach or confront Lorenzo. I simply take out my phone and answer the email I have been avoiding for days. "I agree to participate in the confidential experiment."