Goo Goo Dolls Lyrics นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Five years and a divorce paper in my hand before I realized that I invested my time, effort and devotion to the wrong man. Trapped in a corner with nothing left to my name, I was willing to bargain with my ex-husband for my daughter’s sake. But then, a savior, my husband’s new boss came to rescue me from the financial quagmire I was in. He helped me recover what I lost: my dignity, pride and most importantly, he gave me hope. I thought he was the perfect man. But the illusion shattered when his motives came to bite me in the face. He was in this for revenge, and his target was me.

Isla Harper spent three years being the perfect, invisible girlfriend until the night her boyfriend chose his childhood sweetheart over her and left her to drown. Pulled from the water by a stranger’s commanding hands, Isla discovers her rescuer is none other than Damien Voss: cold, ruthless CEO, and the father of the man who just discarded her. What starts as reluctant gratitude ignites into a dangerous craving. Damien doesn’t ask he claims. He doesn’t beg he commands. And in his world of wealth, control, and dark desires, Isla is no longer second best. She is his good girl. But when ex-lovers, jealous rivals, and buried family secrets threaten to drag them under, Isla must decide if she is willing to drown again this time willingly for the one man who refuses to let her sink.

Having an Awakenist as my wife meant enduring her monkish attitude toward sex. We could only be intimate on the sixteenth of every month. Every detail—my position, rhythm, even my expression—had to follow her rigid rules. If I showed too much pleasure, she would immediately rise and leave. We had been married for five years. Was I ever tired of this? Yes. Still, I always gave in. I accepted these limitations because I loved her. "The Saintess loves me too," I told myself. That faith shattered the day I was sent to extinguish a hotel fire. Amid the flames, I found my wife pressed close to a man in disheveled clothes. Between their arms was a young boy.

After my mother shot down my pleas to cover my medical bills the 100th time, I clutched my bone cancer diagnosis papers and trudged to the crematorium. "Hi, I'd like to reserve a cremation slot ahead of time," I muttered to the clerk. Half an hour ticked by before my parents and adopted brother arrived in their car. My dad, a forensic pathologist, cracked me across the face. "You're pulling a fake-death stunt now, just to steal the spotlight from your brother?" My mom, a hospital director, snatched the papers from my hands and shredded them into confetti. "Faking records using my credentials and tying up hospital resources? You've crossed the line!" My brother cried, tugging at their sleeves. "It's all my fault. I'll skip the amusement park forever. I don't need a thing. Just quit riling up Mom and Dad." I spun around, my hand pressed against my throbbing chest, and begged the crematorium staff. "Please, when it's time, cremate me and scatter the ashes in the river. I've got no family left in this world."

By the third year of my marriage to Daniel Hawthorne, the war had already taken more than it ever returned, and this time it took his younger brother, Thomas Hawthorne. My sister-in-law, Eleanor, collapsed, and in the weeks that followed she tried to follow her husband into death— once with sleeping pills, once by the river beyond the officers’ quarters— only to be dragged back both times, each time clinging to me afterward as though I were the last thing keeping her grounded. I stayed with her, wiped her tears, and whispered that Thomas would want her to live, until the day she received the test results confirming she was three months pregnant, and the grief of losing her husband was slowly softened by the arrival of new life. I smiled too, believing grief had finally loosened its grip. That night, holding my own pregnancy test in my hand and thinking it was finally time to tell Daniel, I passed the study and heard his friend say quietly, “She’s carrying your child. You convinced the doctors to adjust the timeline so everyone would believe the baby belonged to your brother. Aren’t you afraid Margaret will find out?” Daniel didn’t hesitate. “She won’t,” he said calmly. “She loves me. She wouldn’t leave. I won’t let her know.” I didn’t step inside. I didn’t confront him. Instead, I opened the letter I had received weeks earlier— an official deployment order from the international medical corps, assigning me to a frontline war zone— and tapped Accept.

My husband, an anesthesiologist, deliberately increases the sedative dosage on an accident victim so he can get a new heart for his first love, Selena Quigley. After her operation, he cares for her and celebrates her rebirth. He only remembers to contact me after she's recovered. "It's been three months since we saw each other, honey. You shouldn't be mad anymore, right? Why don't you book a flight for tomorrow so you can come home? I'll pick you up at the airport." I won't be going home anymore, though. Not now, not forever. I've already died on his operating table.

On our wedding day, Carter Hall's father took his own life in our new home. He left a suicide note, blaming me for his death. From that day forward, Carter despised me to the core. He said, "Lindsey Thomson, you deserve to rot in hell, atoning for your sins for the rest of your life." Eventually, just as he wished, I wandered the streets, mute and half-insane, living a life worse than a stray dog. But then, he regretted it.

What do you do when the mate you love gets another she-wolf pregnant after a drunken night? This is my new reality. In the face of this, he firmly said, "Keep the pup, and we can still go back to how things were." I could not believe my ears. Shaking my head, I asked him to choose. "Between me and the pup, who do you choose?" I said to him. All I got was silence. His blank face broke me. I could not believe he couldn’t answer. But his silence was enough of an answer for me. So I left, and he regretted it.

Mula sa isang huwad na hatol, pagkakakulong, at sunog na dapat sana’y kumitil ng kanyang buhay, muling isinilang si Beatrice Pascual sa katauhan ni Margaret Villacaceres. Sa likod ng bagong mukha ay naglalagablab ang paghihiganti laban sa mga taong umagaw sa kanyang kalayaan, anak, at pangalan. At sa gitna ng lahat, nakatayo si Atty. Theodore Galvez—ang abogado na siyang nagdiin sa kanya. Hindi niya alam, ang muling pagkikita nila ang magiging simula ng pinakamadilim at pinakamatamis na laro ng hustisya, pag-ibig, at paghihiganti.

Syria has always obeyed. Not because she wanted to but because disobedience meant punishment. Or worse, death for the only person she still loves. Controlled by her uncle, silenced by fear, she's spent her life surviving. But on the day of her cousin’s wedding, something inside her finally snaps. Dressed like a bride, paraded like property, she was meant to smile and stay quiet. Instead, she picks up a brush and paints a nightmare, exposing the truth in front of the entire pack. It was supposed to be her rebellion. Her first and final act of defiance before disappearing forever. Then he sees her. An Alpha, cold, powerful, and dangerous, drawn to the fire. And for the first time in her life, Syria chooses something for herself. Something reckless. She asks for one night with him. One night to feel free, to feel like she belongs to no one but herself. But freedom comes with a price. Now they’re bound by more than just heat and instinct. And Syria realizes it was too late…