Novel & Cerita Highschool Sweethearts Lyrics

I knew Adeline Shaw had been entangled with her childhood sweetheart for over a decade, but I still dove headfirst into our relationship without hesitation. Then came our engagement day. Adeline got a call that her childhood sweetheart had collapsed and was in the hospital. Without a second thought, she dropped everything - dropped me - and rushed to his side. My grandmother, who witnessed this whole scene, hurried after her. In her rush, she was struck by a car. By the time they got her to the hospital, it was too late. We couldn't save her. That's when I finally let go. She was never truly mine, and I shouldn't have tried to force what wasn't meant to be.

After five years of marriage, the doctor told me I was pregnant. It was something I had waited for so long. Yet, along with that good news came a nightmare. My medical tests showed that I had cancer, and it had already spread. The doctor gave me less than a month to live. I froze, gripping the report so tightly my knuckles turned white. Tears streamed down my face as I thought about how my unborn child would never get to feel a mother's embrace. My grief was interrupted by the ping of an incoming text message. It was from Mom. [Since you're so selfish and refuse to donate a kidney to save Nattie's life, you should divorce Davon. Let him marry Nattie instead. At least that way, you can fulfill her dying wish.] My tears fell harder. It was not that I refused to donate a kidney to Natalie Rivera, my sister, who was in the final stages of kidney disease. In truth, I only had one kidney left. Five years ago, I had already given one to Dad. Now, with my life counting down to its final days, I decided that I would donate my remaining kidney to Natalie. I would also let my husband, Davon Parker, go with her. Before I went into surgery, my parents praised me for finally being thoughtful, saying I had finally learned to care about my sister. They said that once the surgery was over, the whole family would go on vacation together. Davon even said he was proud that I was no longer selfish and promised he would make it up to me in the future. None of them knew I did not have a future. After the surgery, what would be pushed out of the operating room would be a cold, lifeless body.

I loved Adriano Ferraro—yeah, that Don—for five freaking years. He wasn't just my fiancé; he was my anchor in a world where loyalty got tested, and weakness got you killed. We had it all mapped out—dreams, plans, a future we actually thought we owned. Until I lost our baby. I reached for him, shaking, desperate for anything. But comfort never came. Instead, it was her. His stepsister, propped up. "Don't buy her act. She's just fishing for attention—again." That snake smiled like she just won a prize for emotional torture, dripping venom while fanning the flames. And Adriano? He bought it. He turned away. In that moment, it hit me—I wasn't just grieving. I was completely alone. The kid I carried, the future I built in my head? Gone. And so was I. I walked out. On him. On the Ferraro Family I was stupid enough to think I could belong to. All I left behind was silence. Empty space where we used to be. Now Adriano's drowning in regret, but it's too damn late. The life we should've had, the love we should've built? Dust. And her? The stepsister who ruined it all? She's paying for every lie.

On the way to get our marriage certificate for the twentieth time, Rolf Trivett regretted it once again. In eight years, this was our twentieth attempt to get the certificate. But every time we reached City Hall, he would always say he needed time to care for his seriously ill childhood friend and couldn't promise to marry me. This time, I couldn't take it anymore and asked him, "If she’s never going to get better, does that mean you’ll never marry me? What am I to you?" Rolf immediately lost his temper and yelled at me, "I've already promised to take care of her for life. Can you stop being so selfish? "Besides, we've been together for eight years. What difference does it make if we don't get this certificate?"

My breathing was still uneven when Robert’s phone lit up on the nightstand. One new message. "Robert, there’s thunder. I’m scared." —Sarah. The words cut through me like ice water. Robert. My mate. The Alpha of the Ashborn Pack. The man everyone praises as the perfect future king. And me? I’m his Luna. Supposedly the rightful queen at his side. But no matter the circumstance, no matter the weight of his responsibilities, the first person he thinks of is never me. It’s always her. At the banquet, when the elders forced him to make a choice—me, his Luna, or her—the room fell into a suffocating silence. I still remember the way my heart begged him to look at me, just once, just long enough to see what he was about to destroy. But his answer came sharp, quick, without hesitation. "Sarah." One word. One name. And with it, he tore my entire world apart. That was the moment I understood: not every betrayal needs to be shouted or confessed. Sometimes, it’s as simple as the name a man chooses to speak. I loved him. I bled for him. But love means nothing if I’m nothing to him. So if destiny has already been written against me… then I’ll be the one to set it on fire.

I was born into hardship, but my beauty led to my adoption by the Maddox family. When I was 18, they brought home two boys. Dustin Holland, a piano prodigy, quickly bonded with my sister, who was the darling of our social circle. Nathan Holland remained in the shadows. He didn't like to talk, laugh, or even show the normal emotional fluctuations of a person. His stubborn, wooden gaze was like that of an abandoned stray dog. Diagnosed with emotional detachment disorder, he became my project. I vowed to heal him. He locked me in a dark room, scarred my face with a branch, and encased my favorite doll in plaster. I forgave it all, thinking he was just traumatized. The elite in the circle mocked us, urging me to abandon him, but I kissed him publicly, declaring, "I love Nathan. Anyone who hurts him will pay." Then a fire tore through our home. Nathan stepped over my broken body to save my sister, his eyes wet with rare tears. Turned out, his disorder had a cure. It was just not me. Reborn on the day they arrived, I looked at the taciturn boy and sneered, "Dad, must we take in every stray?"

After a passionate night, my childhood sweetheart, Jack Jenner, thoughtfully prepared birth control pills for me. I held his wrist and pleaded coquettishly, "The pills are bitter. I don't want to take them. Let's just get married if I get pregnant." Jack patted my head and chuckled. "Don't be silly. Childbirth is much worse than taking pills. Besides, I'm getting engaged on Sunday. Whose child would it be if you gave birth?" I froze as he casually kissed my forehead, gently coaxing me, "My darling Ariana, pack up your things and take them with you. We can't fool around like this anymore. My fiancée asked me to be chaste." I numbly threw the things into the trash can and dialed my father's number. "I'll marry him."

The day before my 20th birthday, the mafia Don Byron Lewis ordered me to choose one of his sons as my husband. Whoever I chose would become the next Don. I chose Joseph Lewis, his eldest son. Everyone was stunned by my decision. After all, everyone knew I had foolishly been in love with Elliot Lewis and that I was even carrying his child. What they did not know was that in my previous life, I married Elliot while pregnant. On the very day he became the Don, he began an affair with Sheila Baker, my maid. My parents drove Sheila away, but Elliot blamed me for it. From then on, he found countless lovers who looked just like her. When I was in labor, bleeding heavily and fighting for my life, he was in bed with one of them. My child and I died on a cold operating table. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn. This time, I decided to let Elliot and Sheila be together. I would find a new father for my child. However, what I did not expect was Elliot to be reborn too.

My boyfriend came from a wealthy family. We had been together for seven years, yet he had never given me a single gift. When he proposed, he even asked for the diamond ring back so he could return it for a refund. Later, when we were about to register our marriage, he complained that the paperwork fee was too expensive and said it wasn’t necessary. However, not long after that, he registered his marriage with his childhood sweetheart instead. He even booked the most luxurious hotel in the entire city, eager to throw a grand engagement party. The shock was too much for my grandmother, and she suffered a heart attack. I dropped to my knees and begged my boyfriend to return the salary I had entrusted to him over the years, as I needed the money to pay for my grandmother’s surgery. He simply wrapped his arm around his childhood sweetheart and pretended not to know me. He said he would never help a lazy beggar who only knew how to freeload. Then, he ordered the security guards to throw me out. Later, my grandmother died on New Year’s Eve, her final breaths drowned out by the sound of fireworks outside. While everyone else celebrated the holiday season, I handled my grandmother’s funeral alone. At the same time, I accepted a job offer from a major overseas company. When I returned home to get my passport, the man—who had just finished introducing his sweetheart to his parents and was clearly in a good mood—saw me and assumed I was still throwing a tantrum. For the first time, he spoke generously. “Alright. What could possibly have happened to your grandmother? At worst, I’ll make it up to you with a luxurious wedding.” What he didn’t know was that from the moment my grandmother took her last breath, I no longer wanted to marry him.

In those eight terrifying seconds when the plane dropped into darkness, my first thought was how devastated Lucas would be if I never made it to the airport. However, after surviving and landing safely, what greeted me instead…was a photo he shared with his childhood sweetheart, the two of them smiling on a hike. The caption read: [Here's to still being wild with you at sixty.] If it had been before, I probably would have blown up his phone, demanding an explanation and picking a fight. However, then, after brushing so close to death, I just felt… tired.. So I typed out a message: [Let's get a divorce.]