Here Comes A Thought Lyrics Novels & Stories

Grandpa Arthur Bennett was taken to court after being accused of using violence and coercion to commit rape. Yet I lounged at home, idly scrolling on my phone while watching a livestream. In my previous life, determined to uncover the truth, I had volunteered to serve as the plaintiff’s lawyer and investigated the case in depth. I had even contacted my brother, Ethan Bennett, praised as a genius lawyer, and urged him to defend Grandpa. But he believed the story I told was absurd—a lie meant to stop him, my best friend, and my mom from going on their trip to Moonlake together—and he blocked all my contact information. In the end, Grandpa was sentenced to life in prison and suffered a fatal heart attack in the courtroom. My family believed I had deliberately helped the plaintiff and disregarded my own kin. They blamed Grandpa’s conviction and death on me. When my Mom returned and saw Grandpa’s body, she collapsed in grief. Overcome with emotion, she got into her car and drove it straight into me, killing me. When I awoke with a start, I realized I had returned to three hours before Grandpa was taken to court.

"Babe, what’s happening here?" I blurted out, my voice shaking as I tried to make sense of the scene before me. Jeffrey turned, his face hardening as if I was a stranger in my own home. "What does this look like to you?"he snapped, rising from the bed with a fierce look in his eyes. He walked toward me, gripping a piece of paper as if it held all the power in the world. "Sign the divorce papers!"he said, shoving the document toward me like it was a blunt instrument. "B... but babe!!" I stammered, my mind racing with disbelief. "Will you shut up and just do it already?" His voice was ice-cold, cutting through my confusion like a knife. Each word stabbed at my heart, making me feel like I was on the verge of falling into an abyss.

Because I was a cheapskate, I rented a cheap apartment. The catch? Someone had died in it. The soundproofing of the house was bad, and I could hear my neighbor’s wife moaning every night. But my other neighbor told me that there was no one living in the apartment next to mine.

Cynthia is a pregnant cheerleader. Her boyfriend ghosted her immediately after she told him the news. Her brother's best friend, the hockey captain Asher, threw a party and invited all of her boyfriend's flings, and they unite to dump him in public. Cynthia said, "Thanks for always being a big brother to me." Asher raised his eyebrow and asked, "Brother? How about your baby’s dad?"

In the fifth year of my marriage to Kevin Gray, he, a sailor, is reported dead during a mission at sea. When his twin brother brings home his ashes, I break down and sob until I can barely breathe. Nothing can stand in the way of our love—not even death... or so I think. Grief consumes me. I cannot accept the reality of losing him. I try to end my life five times. Every time, Kevin's mother or his brother saves me. They plead with me to let go, to live on. After all, Kevin's last wish was for me to find happiness in every day of the life I had left. But in the third month of mourning, I discover the truth—he never died. He lied to me. He took his twin brother's identity and spent his days by Evelyn Stewart's side. He told me he still loved me, that he couldn't live without me, and that everything he was doing had a reason. He said he'd explain everything after Evelyn gave birth. To protect Evelyn and her unborn child, he asked me to move out for a while—just temporarily, until the baby was born. Then, he promised to bring me home again. Kevin, don't bother coming to get me. I'm not coming back.

Emma Blanton twists her ankle, and my fiance, Matthew Harrison, insists on becoming her personal chauffeur. When I voice my disapproval, he makes an even more outrageous decision. He moves Emma into my apartment at Bellemont District—the apartment I bought with my own money. He argues like he's the victim, "You're being selfish. She's injured, and living alone is too dangerous for her right now. I'm just being a decent human being. "And that place is sitting empty anyway. Having someone there helps with security." On the morning we were supposed to get our marriage certificate, he doesn't show up. I call, expecting apologies. Instead, I hear, "Emma had a fever this morning—101 Fahrenheit. I had to take her to urgent care. We can postpone getting the marriage certificate. Her health can't wait." To hell with postponing! I grab my phone and call David Rockefeller. "Do you want to marry me? Then get to City Hall. I'm serious—right now."

During the car accident, Ethan Jones used his body as a shield, protecting me so that I could walk away unscathed. However, when he finally woke up, his memory was frozen at eighteen years old, back when Millie Brown was his girlfriend. Ethan’s friends advised me to let go and fulfill their love story instead. They said that only by Millie’s side would Ethan—the model student everyone admired—step down from his pedestal and live a life. Apparently, I, the obedient, well-behaved girl, made his life dull and lifeless. What no one knew was that, amid the buzzing cicadas of summer, that well-behaved girl had fallen for him—year after year, never once wavering. So, I waited foolishly for Ethan to remember me until three years later, when I was diagnosed with cancer. On that very day, I finally saw the surprise he had mentioned preparing for me before the accident. Only then did I truly let go, and when he handed me the divorce papers once again, I signed my name.

Every year, the village had to choose a girl of age to become the Blossom Bride. The girl who was chosen would be sent into the cave as the village god’s wife. She would spend the entire night with him. If she came out alive, she would be honored for the rest of her life as a village elder. Any child she bore was said to be blessed, destined for a life of effortless fortune. If she died, the village would simply wait for the next year, when another Blossom Bride would be chosen. The blessing of the Blossom Bride was believed to pass on to her parents and elders as well. However, no one wanted to be chosen. To escape the ritual, families quietly left the village, one after another. I was the only one who volunteered. I had a lust problem, and I had always wondered what it would feel like to be with a god.

Everyone knows that Tania Giordano is the principessa of the Giordano family, whom they mustn't piss off at all costs. Ever since she lost her mother at the tender age of six, she has grown into an independent, radiant, and bold woman on her own abroad. She initially thought that she wouldn't rely on anyone else anymore. But when she was 20 years old, a certain man rescued her from the pistol aimed at her by her father's enemy. Since then, Simone Lanzi has stayed by her side and protects her at all times. That's how Tania finds herself falling for him. But one night, she witnesses him panting slightly while staring at a photo featuring Noemi Giordano, her half-sister…

I've been married to Salvatore Falcone for seven years. He's a mafia Don who drills raw terror into everyone's minds. While I'm the Donna whom he has announced to the world, in truth, I'm just a mistress who serves as his human shield that can warm his bed on the side. Salvatore has betrayed me countless times over the past seven years. The first betrayal occurred when he took my ring off on our first wedding anniversary and gave it to one of the escorts in the clubhouse on a whim. The second betrayal occurred when I collapsed in the kitchen out of exhaustion. Instead of saving me, Salvatore blamed me for not preparing the hangover tonic for him in time, so he had someone dump iced water onto me to wake me up. The third betrayal occurred when I suffered from massive bleeding when I was five months pregnant. When I begged Salvatore to go to the hospital with me, he told me that he was keeping Valentina Caruso, his childhood sweetheart, company while her cat was getting fixed. For 2500 days, I swallowed all of my grievances, agony, and tears. Last night, at the banquet of our seventh wedding anniversary, Salvatore had taken Valentina's hand and sat her down on the Donna's throne that was meant to be mine. At that moment, everyone looked forward to seeing me humiliate myself. This was the 101st time he betrayed me. After the banquet was over, Salvatore didn't even bother looking me in the eye. He just said icily, "Don't forget that you're only a mistress to me despite our marriage." At the crack of dawn, Salvatore wakes up with a hangover. He tosses his soiled shirt at me out of habit. "Wash this shirt immediately. I'm going to wear it tonight." As I gaze at him, I caress my belly, which is slightly swollen. "Sorry, Mr. Falcone. This is no longer my duty." Salvatore most likely has forgotten that we've signed a contract when we first got married. The clause states that we will get divorced seven years later. Today is the third day before our contract comes to an end. I toss the marriage certificate and the pregnancy report into the shredder on the spot. In three days, my unborn baby and I will disappear from Salvatore's world permanently. This time, I will never look back.