Head-shaking No

Mark Leaf Reyes, a newly transfer student in a school in Manila, fell in love with a guy named Elm in whom a friend warned him not to. Eager, Leaf swam into his curiosity and soon later drowned into a kind of love he was not prepared to give. TRIGGER WARNING: Suicide

I accidentally hit my head in the shower. To my surprise, I find that I can hear my aloof housemate's thoughts. "Damn, he's got perky buns." I think of him as a regular housemate, but he wants to sleep with me?

This book is a must-read for teenagers. It brings out the emotional and physical countenances of most teenagers, in verisimilitude. Anderson Simpson and his friend, Harrison Edgeton, are in for an adventure that would blow your mind. They discovered things about themselves that they never knew or understood, when they went back through time, with the help of an old Time Machine of “The Time Gods"

“I’m getting a divorce! I can’t stand you anymore. Besides, Sherry is dead, and the company has been handed over to me; what’s the use of putting up with a worthless marriage?” Those were the words of Caleb Thompson, the man I gave up everything to be with, the man I devoted seven faithful years to, the man I have ever loved. >>>>Rosy Connor The death of their child tore them apart, and the effect of her demise sprang up an unexpected divorce that shattered Rosy. Rosy felt the weight of depression weigh down on her more than ever when the man who should have been a shoulder for comfort became a thorn of a consistent reminder of her irresponsibility. The last straw broke on her when Caleb threw a divorce to her face. The moment Rosy granted him his heart desire brought regret and pain to Caleb. He hated throwing off the woman who rejected several suitors for him. He realized that he had lost the most important things in his life despite having everything any human would dream of having. >>>>Caleb Thompson "Caleb, your ex-wife is back as a billionaire after five years; not only that, she is back with a man she called a 'fiance,' what are you going to do now, man?" At that moment, with regret in my eyes, I swore to make my ex-wife forgive me. >>>>Caleb Thompson How can he get back an Ex-wife who only returned to hurt him emotionally and financially? Can he get her back when she already has someone else? Coupled with the hatred and revenge revolving around them, will it be possible to uncover the mysteries that will either destroy them completely or create a new path?

Left at the altar by her fiancé, film industry beauty Christine Ledesma, also known as Cassandra Mendez rebuilt her shattered life. Just when she thought she had finally gotten over him and turned over a whole new leaf, Marty Jacobs the infamous playboy billionaire showed up again to reclaim her. "Mommy, you're back." The little girl sweetly said. Marty came in and walked towards the living room. He put down Christine on the couch. The little girl was delighted to see Christine carried by Marty. The little girl held Marty's hand, looked up to him and spoke, "Mommy, is he my daddy?" The little girl's eyes were twinkling like the stars in the sky. Memories of five years ago came flooding her mind. Christine couldn't utter a word, for she was overwhelmed by the memories of five years ago. The little girl concluded that her mom's silence meant yes, the little girl spoke to Marty "Daddy, did you come back to take us with you?" Baffled, Marty couldn't speak and looked at Christine. Christine had regained her composure and said, "Cassie, sweetie, he is mommy's business partner."

Fedora Smith was done with love. Finished. Buried. Betrayal had ripped out her heart and torched it—her boyfriend of four years and her best friend of twenty-five caught pants down on the very anniversary sheets she gifted him. And their excuses? “You’re not attractive anymore.” “You took too long to marry him.” Fine. If love was a game, she was rewriting the rules. Now, she runs The Bridal Fix, an elite agency providing fake marriages for a steep price—rent-a-bride services for men needing to fool their families, secure an inheritance, or stage the perfect breakup. Fifteen weddings, fifteen divorces—no strings, no mess. Just business. Until Judah Carlstone. He hires her like the rest—one contract, one wedding, one payday. But Judah asks too many questions. Looks at her too long. And when he smirks and says— "Tell me, Fedora… how does it feel to say ‘I do’ and not mean it?" For the first time in years, she has no answer. Because this was never supposed to feel real.

I chase my six-year-old daughter out of the house on a cold winter day. I cut her new clothes to pieces and dirty her dainty little face with mud. Then, I give her all my savings. She looks at me tearfully and reaches out for me, wanting me to hold her. However, I harden my heart and push her away, saying, "Leave! Go to Bowen Group and look for their CEO, Logan Bowen. Show him my death certificate and your DNA test—he'll take you in." She sobs while looking at me. "Don't you want me anymore, Mommy? Let's go look for Daddy together." After a brief silence, I say, "I can't go with you. I lied to him back then to have you." Yes, I'm a liar. I orchestrated everything from meeting Logan, dating him, to ultimately leaving him with his child in my womb. Even the death certificate I've given my daughter is fake. From beginning to end, I've lied to him about everything except our daughter.

Two years after we marry, my husband moves his sister and her family into our marital home. The four of them settle down and refuse to leave. So, I quit both my jobs. I laze around at home all day and splurge on various things. I have so many parcels delivered that they pile up by the door. Occasionally, I ask my husband and his sister for allowance. When the management office sends someone to chase for our maintenance fee, my husband breaks down so loudly that everyone in the building can hear him. He asks me whether I've lost my mind—who will support the family if I don't work? How will we survive without money? Am I going to allow our family to starve? So, it turns out he does know that we'll starve without anyone generating income. Why does he and his sister stay at home and plot to take away all my money, then?

I was reborn back to 1975, when the child in my womb was three months old. I did not tell anyone and quietly had an abortion. However, I still wrapped cotton around my belly every day, pretending the baby was still there. In my past life, my husband Declan Huxley's childhood sweetheart Jane Patton and I gave birth on the same day. She had a healthy, ordinary baby boy. But my child looked nothing like us—he was mixed-race, with features of the Valorian people. Declan and I were both locals, so there was no way our son could look like this. Enraged, Declan scolded me in front of everyone, accusing me of cheating on him and having a disgraceful affair with a Valorian. No matter how many times I explained, no one believed me, and I became the shameful woman everyone pointed at. Worse still, Declan reported me and handed in some foreign letters he found at home, which led to me being taken by federal agents and sentenced as a spy. I spent ten years in prison, and when I finally walked out, I was nothing but skin and bones. Meanwhile, Declan had climbed the ranks for his so-called loyalty to the country. He held Jane's hand and brought along my real son, Seth Huxley, then threw 500 dollars at me like it was charity. He said, "Back then, Jane was accidentally deceived by someone else and gave birth to that brat. Unlike you, she has a gentle nature and couldn't endure hardship, so I had no choice but to switch your children. "This money is payment for your ten years and your reputation. You have a criminal record, and I already filed for divorce long ago to be with Jane. Seth also thinks you're not worthy of me, so you better take care of yourself." Seth also looked at me with disgust. "Mommy Jane treats me very well, and she's not like you; she's never been to prison. I don't want a mother like you!" When I learned the truth, the fury was so overwhelming that I had a stroke and died in despair. In this new life, I want to see how they plan to scheme against me when the child is already gone.

Despite a decade of marriage, Simon never once shared my bed, claiming that he had pledged himself to ascetic practices and that it was beneath him. I thought that he suffered from some shameful ailment and guarded his secret like a devoted fool, until my birthday, when I came home to find him entangled with a brothel worker before the floor-length mirror. When I lunged forward in rage, he drove a shard of that broken mirror straight through my heart. When I awoke, I was gripping my phone, its screen illuminating a message Simon had just sent: [I’ll still give you a lavish wedding, but the marriage certificate? That belongs to her.]