Goodbye For Good Quotes

When I found out I was pregnant, Elroy Lousteau went all out—hired some fancy doctor, loaded me up with meds to "protect the baby." He'd never believed in anything before, but suddenly he went to church, praying like his life depends on it. "You've been through hell, babe. Once the baby's here, I swear I'll make it right." That same day, I picked up his phone by accident. "As instructed, the meds include a compound for permanent infertility. The baby will be stillborn. "Ms. Tillon's baby is healthy and will be delivered safely—as the true Lousteau heir. "Mrs. Lousteau won't suspect a thing. Your relationship's secure. You can rest assured." I looked down at my belly. He never loved me. Not really. So I made up my mind—once the divorce papers were signed, I was gone. No looking back.

On Valentine's Day, I set up a candlelit dinner and waited. At 9 PM, my husband, Alfred Johnston, finally texted. [Something came up at work. Don't wait for me.] Then I saw her post. [On a business trip with the CEO for Valentine's Day. Every hotel is fully booked—awkward...] Vivian Bianca, his secretary. Attached was a photo of a guy in a bathrobe, standing by a floor-to-ceiling window. The comments were all 'ooh, CEO's so hot and girl, you're in for a night.' Vivian? Just dropped a smug emoji. So that's what "something came up" meant—a romantic getaway with his secretary. I screenshotted it, posted it on my own feed, and added a smiling emoji. A second later, Alfred called, fuming. "Vivian was joking! Why are you so petty? She's young, not as calculating as you!" I didn't let him finish. "Then let's get a divorce. That way, I won't have to care when you screw around and catch something."

"I assure, all those who dared to mock me will soon regret it, especially you, my dear ex-husband!" Samantha Swan, a 24 years old young woman, orphaned and working as a waitress, found herself pregnant by Marcus Johnson, a billionaire known for his arrogance, ruthlessness, and icy heart. Her life turned into a living nightmare when she was coerced into marrying him for the sake of their unborn child. She never experienced love, only enduring abuse at the hands of Marcus and her mother in-law, until one fateful day when she could bear it no longer. She made the courageous decision to escape, even though she was pregnant. She had reached her breaking point. Realizing that she would rather be a single mother, raising her child alone, than endure the pain inflicted upon her by her husband and mother in-law under the same roof, Samantha took a leap of faith. One day, as fate would have it, she collapsed on the road, only to awaken in a grand and opulent mansion, standing before a bearded and elderly man seated in a wheelchair. "Glad you're awake, my daughter," he said with a smile. From that day forward, Samantha discovered that she was the long-lost daughter and the sole heir of the Trillionaire, Zeus Monte Verde.

My wife made me get a vasectomy. Not once, but ninety-nine times. Right before the hundredth operation, the doctor looked at me with pity in his eyes as the anesthesia failed to fully kick in. "Ms. Gibson really knows how to destroy a man," he murmured. "She's put him through ninety-nine vasectomies, then had them reversed—again and again. However, his body's long since broken. There's no chance of children now." "It's probably for her ex. Word is, it's his own brother. The scandals in these wealthy families—unbelievable." Because of a hospital mix-up at birth, my and Jeff Cunningham's fates were exchanged. He grew up with the Cunningham family, while I lived a poor life. Years later, my parents found the truth, taking me in and sending Jeff away. To make things worse, I became Wynnie Gibson's new fiancé. I once asked her, barely able to speak through the pain, why she would marry someone she did not love. She looked at me calmly. "To get revenge," she said. "You came home and stole Jeff's place. He was the one I love. He drank himself to death after you returned." Even my biological parents knew she was poisoning me. However, they turned a blind eye. They did nothing to stop her. They knew Wynnie had got pregnant with Jeff's child through IVF—planning to raise the child and let him inherit the family fortune. I coughed up blood and threw myself into the sea. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I was first reunited with them. This time, when I saw the sorrow in their eyes—sorrow not for me, but for the son they lost— I chose to let them go.

Vincenzo Moretti was Stonehaven’s youngest financial titan— a tech mogul commanding a multibillion-dollar empire, gracing the covers of business magazines as a modern legend. But only a select few knew the truth: he was also the ruthless Don controlling the East Coast mafia. To him, wealth and power were mere chips in a game. And I? I was just another pawn used to stabilize a fragile family alliance. In our ten-year marriage, he slept with my friends, my coworkers… every single person I once trusted. Then one morning, as I took our one-month-old baby for a routine checkup, Sienna Newton, his latest mistress, ran me down with her car. The baby screamed endlessly. I begged her to take us to the hospital, and when Vincenzo arrived, he looked at me with cold disdain. “Isabella,” he sneered, “when did you learn to stage accidents? “Even if you died here, I wouldn’t bat an eye.” Then he took Sienna’s hand and walked away without a backward glance. By the time I was rushed to the hospital, the child in my arms had suffocated. Upon hearing the news, my mother suffered a heart attack. She didn’t survive. I slipped into a coma for two days. When I finally woke up, I found out that Vincenzo never visited. Instead, his father, Renato Moretti, the true king of the Moretti empire, stood by my bedside. I looked at him calmly and said, “Let me go. Whatever I owed your family, I’ve repaid in full with two lives.” Later, that same Don who had once looked down on me knelt before me, begging me to come home. But I was no longer the woman who waited, silent and broken, for his change of heart. I was the Don’s wife who turned away and never looked back.

That winter, our whole family went skiing in Aespen, Amestia. It was a popular spot for werewolf nobles and the wealthy. Then, the avalanche struck. My father's first instinct was to scoop up Summer—his sleeping adopted daughter—and flee. My mother, panicked, still made sure to grab the stray puppy Summer had found. They returned to the Moonshadow Pack that same night, posting a flood of photos online and rejoicing over their miraculous escape. Not one of them remembered me. Their biological daughter was still buried beneath the snow, waiting for rescue. When I was finally rescued, I did not look back. I took my mentor's offer to study abroad and left the pack behind. I moved to Cascade City to study medicine. No more pleading, no more shrinking myself in hopes of earning back my family's love. Yet they only seemed more disgruntled. "Rose, why aren't you competing with Summer for our attention anymore?"

Nag tatrabaho si Quelsy Arcela Guevara bilang waitress sa isang mamahaling restaurant. Nag iisa nalang ito sa buhay simula ng mamatay sa car accident ang kanyang mga magulang. She never had a boyfriend ngunit may isang lalaki itong lubos na hinahangaan. Walang iba kundi si Kavin Santiago, the CEO of Santiago Enterprise.    Dahil sa lubos na pag hanga ng dalaga dito ay mabilis na Nahulog ang kanyang puso. Hindi ito nag dalawang isip na pakasalanan si Kavin.  Hangang sa malaman nito ang totoong dahilan kung bakit sya nito pinakasalan.   Sa pag hihinagpis ni Quelsy, hindi nya inaasahan na meron syang masasandalan. Walang iba kundi si Emmett De Castro, ang matalik na kaibigan ng kanyang asawa.  Sa pag tutulungan nilang dalawa, magawa kaya nilang pabagsakin ang lalaking nag bigay ng hinagpis sa mga puso nila?  Masumpungan kaya nilang dalawa sa isat-isa ang tunay na pag-ibig? O di kaya mapabilang nalang din sila sa mga nabiktima ng mga taong lubos na nag kasalanan sa kanila.  

My boyfriend is a forensic artist. He was forced to make a harrowing decision to save his first love. At the killer's demand, he created a portrait from a photo—he never realized that the young girl in the photo was me in my childhood. Two weeks later, the police investigate a grisly bomb explosion and dismemberment case. The victim's identity was unrecognizable, and the investigation dragged on for days as the authorities desperately searched the blast site, looking for my remains. After three days and nights, they finally recovered enough of my remains to reconstruct my face. When my boyfriend unknowingly brought the shattered fragments back to life with his art, he was confronted with a horrifying truth—one that drove him to the edge of madness.

On their third anniversary, Finley had all their friends over to celebrate. Claire walked in to find him on one knee, proposing to his childhood friend, Renee. "What is going on?" she asked. He shrugged like it was nothing. "It's just a game of truth or dare." But it wasn't until he shoved her down the stairs, causing her to miscarry, that she finally woke up. She'd given him five chances. Now? She was done. "Finley, it's over. Let's get divorced."

Everyone knew—Jessica Conway had always adored Jack Murray. They were high school lovers, and everyone just assumed they would get married eventually and live happily ever after. But then, there was Abby Conway, Jessica's elder sister who was "gravely ill." On the eve of Jessica and Jack's wedding, he said, "Jess, your sister's really really sick. Let's give her a chance to be the bride for now, alright? You know you're the one I love." Abby echoed, "Jess, promise me you'll come to the wedding, okay?" Jessica clutched the stomach cancer diagnosis in her hands and said nothing. On the wedding day, she never showed up. Jack, realizing her absence, abandoned the ceremony and rushed home—only to find the house empty. The only thing left behind was a single sheet of paper: her final diagnosis. For three days and three nights, Jack knelt before Jessica, begging for a second chance. But she never forgave him. Not even in death.