Growl Stomach

He presses her hard to the wall, but make sure to secure the little girl head, his hands at his ex-wife waist tightened as his trembling lips opened, his voice quivered as he said something near her ears. "I wont be a bad guy anymore Xiara, dont leave me again, okay?" he repeated it over and over again like chanting a spell, but the pit at his stomach only continued to grow. His eyes flash a bit of crazy obsessiveness and paranoia as the hand that hold Xiara head a while ago gently stroke her head with great restraints. Tilting her head, Xiara blinked, "Who are you?"

I laid there unmoving, my hands shivered, my legs twitched as if rooted to the floor, tears rolled down my cheeks as I came to a realization. There laying a few metres away from me laid dad, whose eyes were closed as he drowned in his pool of blood, a deep hole in his heart while he laid unwavering. "Dad...wake up dad, dad please wake up." I squealed and then shook dad severally, but he was long gone, there was no coming back for him anymore, I growl and cried in silence, everything happened too fast.

My stepdaughter, Alana Greenwood, brought me some abortion medicine on her Coming-of-Age Ceremony. Everyone around knew of her little "prank", but none came to stop her. Even my husband just stood and watched. I smiled bitterly as I took the medicine and drank it in one go. I immediately felt the pain in my lower abdomen. My head began to spin, but I could still hear the harsh tone in Alana’s voice. "Well, did you think you could replace my mother after giving birth to your child? Let me tell you this, Dad agreed to marry you back then because I was young and was in need of a free nanny! If you dare think about replacing my mother, you will be kicked out of the Greenwood family!" I covered my stomach and took a deep breath. "There's no need for the trouble. You're an adult now and I've completed my task. I'll leave... tomorrow."

It's my wedding day. However, Julian Lancaster shoves me aside when he receives a call from Vivienne Hayes. "I'm sorry, honey. Vivi has an upset stomach—I need to bring her some medication for that."

On the way to a dance competition, a massive truck rammed into me. My legs were shattered, and my mother was sent flying from the impact after she tried to protect me. My stepbrother, who was also my secret boyfriend of six years, went crazy after hearing the news. He had the driver dragged off to a lawless borderland and called in the best doctors in the country to save me and my mother. Not many people knew, but I was born with a rare sensitivity to pain. The more it hurt, the clearer my mind became. That was how I ended up lying wide awake on the bed, listening to Luke Quinton and his friend, Harvey Lane, talking just outside my hospital room. "Luke, are you sure about this? You really want to let Queenie practice on Natalie's mother's heart?" "She deserves it. That vile woman seduced my father and drove my mother to her death. If not for revenge, do you think I'd stomach being with her daughter for six years? "She should be honored that Queenie is dissecting her heart. Keep it from Natalie for now. If she loses it, she might ruin my wedding with Queenie. What would I do if that happened? The only woman I'll ever have as my wife is Queenie. No one will ever take her place." So, that was the truth. What I thought was a love strong enough to defy the world had been a lie from the very beginning—just a carefully crafted act of revenge.

I was reborn. Right back to the day I adopted Peter. The wind cut sharp, baby cries slicing through the cold. That's when it hit me—this was the day Stuart Pete, my oh-so-loving husband, dumped his illegitimate child right in my path after work. He knew me too well. The second I picked the kid up, he'd spin it into an adoption, making the boy ours. Last time, I fell for it. This time? I walked away without a second thought. Later, I heard the kid got pneumonia from being left out in the freezing cold—fever so bad, it wrecked him for life. I laughed until my stomach hurt. What I didn't see coming? Peter was reborn too—about to experience the life he was meant to have.

What happens when a wedding planner has to work alongside a temperamental and annoying bride's brother to plan the wedding of the year? Chaos, pure chaos. The last thing Violet needed was a man to touch her slightly not so flat stomach (or perhaps it was a little more than slightly not to flat) and press her against a wall. She wasn't a model, and she knew it. So naturally, she just sucks her stomach in. Violet prided herself on creating the best weddings society has ever seen, the last thing she needed was to go head to head with the bride's brother, when planning Melbourne's biggest wedding of the year. Alex was everything Violet could dream about, but not touch. Handsome, built straight out of a magazine with the six pack. Was his interest in Violet genuine, or just another charm for the bedrest?

"Loving you is the worst sin I've ever committed in my life, Tyron," Lizelle's bitter words seemed to burn her heart. The butterflies in her stomach died, the rain joined her lifeless heart, and above all, her self-loathing could not be erased as if it was a mark engraved on her entire being. What can we bestow for love? What can we waive? And what can we give up? People who were met at the wrong time and chance. How long can they forgive each other to forget the past?

On the day we were supposed to get our marriage license, Michael Robertson ghosted. I sat outside the County Clerk's Office for hours. Instead of him, I got a pic from his secretary, Kallie Clunt. She was in his lap, arms wrapped around him, making out like it was the hottest scene in a drama. [Sorry, Elsa. Michael said he had to comfort my broken heart. You don't mind, do you?] When I asked him about it, he just looked annoyed. "She gave me blood once. What's the big deal if I hang out with her? Can't you be a little more understanding?" My stomach dropped. I turned away and called his older brother. "Leon, do you still want to marry me?"

A medical report shows me my husband's true colors. I've been diagnosed with late-stage stomach cancer. Yet, my husband gives our life savings to someone else. I lunge at him to take my anger out on him, but he shoves me to the floor. "Lillian needs the money to open up a shop, you madwoman! So what if I've given her the money? "You have late-stage stomach cancer, so it's the end of the line for you! Why are you trying to compete with someone who has a long life ahead when you already have one foot in the grave? You can't expect Mom and I to lose everything because of you, right?" I sit dazedly on the floor. I've never found him more unfamiliar. After that, I sneak all my wedding gifts out, wanting to sell them for money. However, I'm told they're all fakes. My husband sneers. "I'm glad I had the foresight to switch them out for the real deal. You would've taken all the money if not for that!" Later, the hospital called to say there was an issue with their system. The names on the medical reports were wrongly indicated. I ask my husband, "Why are you competing with someone who has a long life ahead when you already have one foot in the grave?"