He Forgot Novels & Stories

She was pregnant when he handed her divorce papers. She didn't tell him. She simply signed, walked away and disappeared completely taking his child and her dignity with her. Three years later Damien Cross finds her rebuilt, thriving and completely unmoved by his return. He comes with regret and explanations. She has one answer for all of it. Too late. But a man who has just discovered he has a son doesn't walk away easily. And Mara is about to learn that the most dangerous version of Damien Cross is the one who finally realises exactly what he lost.

Nine years ago, I stole my sister’s man and trapped him in a marriage he never wanted. I thought time would make him love me. I was wrong. Now, exhausted from cold nights and an empty bed, I hand Damien the divorce papers and walk away with nothing but my shattered heart. He should be relieved. He’s finally free. But when his first love slithers back into his life and I start rebuilding mine, the man who ignored me for years suddenly decides he can’t live without me. Too late. I’m done being the second choice.

I spent five years as Dominic Santoro’s wife in name only. Five years hidden behind closed doors, buried under his sheets, erased from his world. When he finally agreed to take me back to Chicago—to stand beside him, to be seen—I thought I had won. I bought a new dress. Soft. Elegant. Worthy of a Don’s woman. The night before we left, he looked at me through the mirror and said calmly, “Take the makeup off. Change into pants.” I asked why. He adjusted his cufflinks like I was nothing more than background noise. “Juliana Lancaster is back. Tonight is our engagement.” Russian Bratva. Lancaster blood. A marriage alliance. Seeing my silence, he laughed—careless, cruel. “What’s with that look? Didn’t we agree on this when we married? Brotherhood. Loyalty. No love.” Then he turned, eyes sharp and mocking. “Victoria Miller… you didn’t actually fall in love with me, did you?” I stood there, frozen. Because inside the inner pocket of his tailored suit— was my pregnancy report. And the Don of Chicago had no idea the woman he was about to sacrifice was carrying his heir.

For seven years, Alina Virelle was the perfect wife. Gentle. Patient. Quietly devoted. She loved Lucien Drax in silence, even when he gave her nothing in return no warmth, no affection, not even a place in his world. But she stayed. Because she believed that one day, he would finally see her. She was wrong. On her birthday, Alina crosses countries just to be with her husband and daughter… only to find herself standing outside a life that no longer includes her. Another woman has already taken her place. And the most painful part? Her daughter doesn’t reach for her. That day, Alina doesn’t cry. She doesn’t beg. She doesn’t fight. She simply lets go. She signs the divorce papers. Walks away from the marriage. And disappears from their lives without looking back. But the woman who returns is no longer the quiet wife who endured everything. She is distant. Untouchable. And far more powerful than anyone remembers. Just as Alina begins to rebuild her life, Lucien starts coming back. More often. Closer than ever. Watching her like she is someone he is only now seeing for the first time. Until the day he discovers the truth. She wants a divorce. And this time… he refuses to let her go. “A divorce?” he says, his calm finally breaking as he traps her against the wall. “You don’t get to leave me… not now.” But what Lucien doesn’t understand is Alina already left him long ago.

While they slice me apart, I desperately call my brother, Nathan Slade. He finally picks up as my consciousness starts to slip and answers in an annoyed voice, "What now?" "Nathan, help—" I don't get to finish before he cuts me off. "Can't you ever go a day without drama? Gemma's graduation is at the end of the month. Miss it, and I swear I'll kill you!" Then, he hangs up without a second thought. The agonizing pain swallows me whole, and my eyes close for good, tears still trailing down my cheeks. Well, good news, Nathan… You won't have to kill me because I'm already dead.

My husband promised we would spend Thanksgiving with my parents this year. Right before we left, he looked down at his phone and frowned. "Damn it. I forgot to change the delivery address again. Your parents' gift basket went to Cassia's place." I stood in the entryway with my fingers frozen around my scarf. For three years of marriage, Roman DeLuca had never removed Cassia Vail's address from his shopping apps. Whenever I asked him why, he always said the same thing: "Cassia and I grew up together. She’s basically family." The Italian espresso machine I wanted went to her apartment. He said her old machine had broken anyway. The sapphire bracelet for our wedding anniversary was signed for by her. He said asking for it back after she opened it would look petty. The sunflowers and baby's breath he promised me on Valentine's Day ended up in her hands. He said she had already put them in a vase, and he couldn't give me secondhand flowers. This time, I had reminded him for two weeks. The Thanksgiving basket had a low-sugar pumpkin pie, nut-free cookies, and a custom low-sodium turkey roll for my father. I had chosen every item myself. It still went to Cassia. I kept my voice steady. "Drive over and get it back." Roman's face darkened. "She already signed for it. What do you want me to do? We'll pick up wine and pastries on the way. Same thing." "It isn't the same. Get it back." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Elena, can you stop turning every little thing into a family trial? No one makes things awkward like you do." Every time something meant for me ended up with his childhood sweetheart, I asked him to get it back. Every time, I got some version of the same answer. I stopped arguing and watched him slam the door behind him. A few minutes later, I wiped my tears and texted my attorney. [Happy Thanksgiving. Please draft a divorce agreement for me. Thank you.]

I vowed to transfer schools with my childhood friend when he claimed he was being bullied. But the day before we were to finalize the transfer, he backed out. His friend teased him. "Man, you faked being a punching bag just to get rid of Alice Wiley? That's cold. You two have been thick as thieves since forever. Are you really cool with her going to a new school alone?" Shane Page brushed it off. "It's just another high school across town. Not a big deal. I'm tired of her always being up my ass. This works out perfectly." I stood frozen outside the door for a long time. Finally, I turned and walked away. On the transfer form, I crossed out Oatheport High and filled in the international academy my parents had been pushing for. Everyone seemed to forget that Shane and I were never equals.

Lucy Castle was once labeled the ugly duckling of her school. After a humiliating one-night stand with the school’s golden boy, Richard Oxford, her life crumbled. He denied ever knowing her, mocked her in front of everyone, and left her broken. Five years later, Lucy returns—no longer the timid girl they once laughed at, but a confident, breathtaking fashion designer taking over the industry. When her path crosses with Richard again, he seeks closure and forgiveness. Now the tables have turned—but can she truly resist the man who once broke her?

Summer Willow, an orphan with no memories of her past, struggles to establish an identity for herself. She moves to New York City, where she meets Ryan and falls in love. Later, Ryan betrays her, causing her to lose every bit of hope she ever had in love. As a result, Summer becomes nonchalant, cold, and emotionally closed off. Her life begins to change when she meets Stephen Jones, a handsome billionaire who brings back the spark in her. He makes her believe in love again and helps her regain her lost identity. Little does Summer know that this same identity will become her biggest hindrance. Stephen Jones, a multimillionaire, was on his way to an important appointment when his car crashed into another vehicle that had taken the wrong lane. The accident triggered a strong sense of déjà vu as he rushed out to rescue the victim himself. The moment Stephen saw Summer, the solution to his long-lasting guilt flashed before his eyes. Could she be the girl he has been searching for?

The night my husband, William Costello, was assassinated by his enemies was supposed to be a celebration—our wedding anniversary. I was dressed in his favorite red dress, waiting for him, when the phone rang. "Mr. Costello was shot at the harbor. The bullet went through the back of his head. He died on the spot." I collapsed to the floor. I clung to his belongings, mourning for a week straight. We even lost our unborn child during this time. Everyone said William and I were true love. Even the Don himself came to the funeral, resting a heavy hand on my shoulder with a sigh. He said, "All of Blackhaven knows you were the only woman he ever loved." Grief nearly destroyed me. I stood at the river's edge, ready to follow William into the afterlife. However, I overheard my sister-in-law, Emily Hawkins, leaning into my brother-in-law, Jones Costello, her voice dripping with a twisted affection. She purred, "William, I love you so much. Between Nina and me, who do you think is sexier?" "Of course it's you, babe!" came the husky reply. I stood frozen, my eyes wide and my body trembling. Why was Emily calling my brother-in-law by my husband's name?