Highway 1009 Makna

Kunjungan dari sang adik ipar berujung petaka. Risti, seorang istri dari pria bernama Bayu, harus menerima perlakuan tak baik dari adik iparnya, Lia. Lia memang tinggal terpisah dengan mereka, tetapi hari itu dia datang untuk berlibur ke rumah sang kakak. Lia memberikan jamu kepada Risti hingga wanita itu jatuh terlelap. Dalam lelapnya, Risti tiba-tiba terjaga dan mendengar sebuah desahan yang berasal dari kamar Lia. Desahan itu bukan sembarang desah. Risti bahkan mendengar nama suaminya disebut di sela desahan panas itu. Apa yang sebenarnya terjadi di kamar sebelah? Apakah ... Risti hanya halu semata?

On the highway, when the vehicles of drivers on the same stretch of road went out of control and rushed towards us, Wynn Lloyd protected me by holding me close beneath him. As a result, he ended up in the emergency room, battered.In the hospital ward, a friend praised, "Your husband is really good to you. When the car came crashing, he protected you with his life, not caring about his own."I remained silent.Indeed, he was good, but it didn't stop him from liking someone else.Wynn and I had known each other since childhood, for over a decade, and everyone said he loved me to death.But who would have thought that such a person had a mistress on the side?He pampered her in every possible way, indulging her to the extreme.

I’d been in love with Cassian Cross—my brother’s best friend, the one and only mafia boss in the NYC—for as long as I could remember. On the night of my twentieth birthday, my brother promised me a surprise. I didn’t expect that surprise to be a very drunk, very kissable Cassian. One reckless night. One baby boy. Cassian agreed to marry me after giving birth. But the day I gave birth to Leo, Cassian said nothing. He just packed up and vanished to France for nearly five years. Then he returned with Alessia. His first love. And when she saw Leo and me, she ran away and disappeared. After that, Cassian never left my side. Like he was trying to be the man I needed all along, that we were finally going to have our chance. But fairytales are lies wrapped in pretty paper. On Leo’s sixth birthday, we were driving to dinner. The brakes failed. The car spun onto the highway, flames licking at the engine. Cassian got out. And then he locked the door. “If it weren’t for you, Alessia would still be by my side. Now? It’s your turn to suffer.” It wasn’t until that moment I understood—Cassian had never loved me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at my twenties birthday. Cassian was in my bed, exactly where I’d left him in the past. This time, I didn’t hesitate. I ran. And on my way out, I made the call I should’ve made the first time. To Alessia.

I give my grandmother a gift she'll never forget on her 60th birthday. My husband and I get into a fight on the highway back to my hometown. He pulls over in the emergency lane and chases me out of the car. He then drives off, leaving me stranded on the highway. He later gets into a major accident on the highway. His car is totaled, and he dies. It's actually not an accident—it's homicide. I'm the murderer.

Due to one phone call, Carl Lorde left me behind in a deserted area on the highway, even though I had been pregnant for four months. I walked to a rest area to ask for help, but in the end, I was unable to keep the baby. I broke down and called Carl, but he kept rejecting my calls. The next day, his childhood friend posted an intimate photo of them lying side by side in bed, with a caption. [With just one call, you’d come over to my side no matter what.] Everyone was waiting for me, Carl’s girlfriend, to make a joke of myself. However, I just wiped away my tears, liked the post, and commented, [Congratulations, you two are a match made in the trash dump. I hope you rot in hell together.]

There's a ten-car collision on the highway, and I'm trapped in one of ten. For some reason, none of the ambulances can get to us. I desperately call my boyfriend to ask for help. I expect him to immediately come to my rescue, but he merely snaps at me. "Yvette didn't even make a sound when she sliced her finger. Couldn't you have just dodged when the accident happened? You're not crippled or anything! Stop being so childish at your age!" He doesn't want me to disturb him anymore, so he blocks my number. Fortunately, a kind soul saves me and takes me to the hospital. I survive the ordeal. When I leave the hospital, I see a breaking news report on the screen in the lobby. "Love exists in the world! Mr. Fenton spends a fortune to gather the city's ambulances to save his true love when she slices her finger!" The news report makes my heart ache. I pull out the ring I was going to use for my proposal and throw it away without hesitation. Henry Fenton and I have been together for 14 years, but I don't want the relationship anymore.

From the moment Juno Genovese could understand right from wrong, her life was a shadowed existence. Born into the great Genovese dynasty as a twin, she was deemed unimportant, her existence measured solely in service to her younger brother's life and future. Her identity, forged to masquerade as her brother, living as his perfect stand-in, preparing him for his eventual rise as the 'heir' to their family's empire. But fate had other plans. A sudden attack ravaged the world she had known, the walls of the carefully constructed world her parents thrust her into, came crumbling around her. Torn from the hands of her family and thrust into a life-changing situation. Mistaken for the heir apparent, Juno found herself in the clutches of Vito Costello, the enigmatic and fiercely intelligent heir to the rival Costello Conglomerate. Trapped in a web of intrigue and danger, Juno found herself deciding between loyalty to her family and the irresistible pull of a forbidden connection with Vito. And as her bond with Vito deepened, Juno discovered not only her own strength and stability, but also the murky depths of the world she had been thrust into. Betrayal lurked in every corner, secrets whispered like poison, and the thin line between ally and foe blurred more each day. In this immersing tale of deception, hearts, and redemption, Juno Genovese takes the highway as she fights for her freedom, identity, and finally, her own future.

A single misstep, and the consequences were severe. I am Moxie Guerra, known to all who know me as a devil with the face of an angel. At the age of seventeen, I am a woman with high standards in every aspect of life. I insist on the best food, the most luxurious clothing, and when it comes to men, they must be extraordinarily wealthy, attractive, and well-known. Born to my father's mistress, who passed away after my birth, I am scorned by my father's second family. As the daughter of a mafia boss, I was brought up in a perilous environment. No one perceived me as patient or kind. Instead, I was feared, much like my father, which was my Achilles' heel. However, when I discovered that my father had arranged my marriage to the richest son in the country without my approval, my rebellious streak surfaced. I wasn't just the daughter of a mafia boss for appearances. I was as obstinate and egocentric as my father. I decided to flee to a place where my father would least expect me to be. I stopped at the nearest bar for some liquid courage before driving to my mother's hometown. It was a humble province, filled with trees and dirt roads, a stark contrast to my opulent lifestyle. But my survival was more crucial than my sophisticated tastes. However, my car broke down in the middle of a vast highway on the way there. Despite being inebriated, I managed to survive. A man in a black Hummer arrived and came to my aid. His smile was menacing and disconcerting.

On the highway, a chain-reaction crash happened out of nowhere. I was left with a fractured skull, barely hanging on. When my husband—who's a well-known respiratory specialist—showed up, he didn't even look at me. He rushed past, straight to his first love. She had nothing more than a scrape on her arm. I tried to call out for help, but he just turned and looked at me like I was being dramatic. "You're fine. Don't act like you're so fragile," he snapped, brushing me off like my pain didn't matter. At the hospital, things only got worse. He used his position to get every bit of attention, monopolizing the medical staff, and as my supposed sole family member, he signed the papers to abandon my treatment. "It's just a fractured skull," he said, sounding totally calm. "Save the woman in my arms first. She's a renowned painter. She's more important." As I started to lose consciousness, his muttered words cut through the fog, "You're better off dead. We don't want anyone knowing about Leona's drunk driving."

I've been caught in a relationship with a divorced man for eight years. We've broken up and reconciled too many times to count. In the end, I tallied ninety-four breakups and five divorces between us. One more would make it an even hundred, but I'm too exhausted to continue this cycle. The first breakup happened when I was giving him my virginity. Halfway through, his ex-wife called asking him to pick up some bread, and he simply left. The fifth breakup occurred when he abandoned me, newly pregnant, on the highway to comfort his ex-wife who was having complications with her own pregnancy. I ended up in a car accident and miscarried. He arrived at the hospital with his clothes disheveled. Despite all the pain he caused me, I could never bring myself to truly leave him. Our most recent divorce happened for an equally absurd reason. His ex-wife and their child were participating in a family reality TV show that required them to appear as a complete family unit. To protect his ex-wife's public image, he divorced me yet again. When filming wrapped, he called to discuss remarrying. This time I refused, because I'm going to marry someone else.