Hung Arknights

On the eve of my wedding, I was run over by my fiance's childhood friend. My life was in danger. My best friend tried to call my fiance, but he hung up directly. He sent her a text message. "Ruth is sick. I don't have time." My best friend then called her boyfriend who happened to be a well-connected celebrity. However, he said, "Ruth is sick. She needs me by her side right now." After a night of resuscitation, we looked at each other in the ward and spoke at the same time. "I don't want to get married." To our surprise, both our fiances went crazy when they found out we called off our weddings.

"Daddy? When are you coming home? Mommy's on the bed, and she won't wake up." Luca's voice shook, breaking up with tiny, hiccuping sobs. "If she's not getting up, wake her. She's just being lazy, " Bill barked. "Look, I'm busy. Go ask your mom if you need something, and stop calling me for every little thing!" Then he hung up, just like that. He was too busy flirting with his secretary to care. Me? Luca? We weren't even on his radar. What he didn't know was that I was already dead. But later, when reality slammed into him like a truck, he clung to my photo, sobbing and begging me not to leave. Too late.

Who said perfection was overrated? To Mattie Wilcox, Brad Sumners has always been the epitome of perfect-the perfect football star, the perfect poker player, the perfect high school crush. But who knew crushes could last so long? Because all these years, Mattie's still as hung up on Brad as she was when she was younger. She knows she has to get over him....but how? When Brad suddenly shows up on her doorstep asking for help, Mattie knows what she has to do. After all she's never been one to turn away a friend in need...and with luck, she'll take care of a few needs of her own. This is her chance to get Brad out of her system for good. And she's sure they'll both find the experience perfectly satisfying....

I was the top engineer at the National Deep-Sea Institute—and the only person in the world with real deep-sea rescue experience. When my younger brother's submarine went down and he called for help from 35,000 feet below, I hung up on him. Then, calm and unhurried, I went straight to the police station and turned myself in for leaking classified research data. A few minutes later, my father called, furious. "Your brother's life is hanging by a thread—where the hell are you?! I demand you to get to the site and save him right now, or you won't see a single penny of the family fortune!" I pulled the blanket over myself and said into the phone, perfectly composed, "Busy. Don't bother me—I'm trying to sleep."

When I was waiting for Theodore at City Hall from dawn to dusk, he was accompanying his first love on a hike. I called him dozens of times, but he rejected my calls instantly each time. He finally picked up on the twentieth call. "Why are you blowing up my phone when you simply didn't see me for a day? Why are you acting so desperate? Sammy's feeling unwell because of her heart and I still need to take care of her at the hospital. We'll talk later about registering our marriage." Ten years of love. This was the 100th time Theodore had left me alone in front of City Hall for his first love. I hung up and calmly tossed the wedding ring away. This marriage? I was done with it.

A tremor ran through Araceli as his gaze caught hers. His touch, unexpectedly gentle, sent shivers down her spine. His words, a husky whisper, "I see the longing in your eyes, Angel," hung heavy in the air. ***** The irony wasn't lost on her. Araceli, who craved nothing more than a family's warmth, found herself entangled with a man who, despite his wealth and power, seemed to yearn for the very same thing. He was Zayn, CEO to a vast fortune, yet trapped in a gilded cage of a loveless marriage with a wife who has her eyes on another man. Fate, it seemed, had a cruel sense of humor, bringing them together at this crossroads in their lives. Both teetering on the edge, they fought the undeniable pull, the storm of emotions threatening to consume them

On day two of Matthew's so-called business trip, I was wiping down the counter when I said, "Auri, play some music." Instead of music, a syrupy voice chirped, "Sure thing, my Baby Moon. Oh, and Matthew, don't forget Bibi's birthday surprise tonight." I froze. The speaker blasted some random playlist, but all I heard was 'Bibi.' Matthew Kein was my husband. So who the hell was Bibi? I called him. "Did you mess with our smart speaker?" A beat of silence, then his fake laugh. "Oh, a buddy dropped by. Probably logged his account in. Why?" I laughed back like I bought it, then hung up. Two taps later, I was scrolling the login history, already hailing a cab to the company tied to that mystery account.

In eight years together, my boyfriend—Shayne Raffield—blocked me eighty-eight times. This time? Because I missed his call. At my best friend's birthday party. Usually, I'd panic-order a gift, then stand outside his office, head down, ready to beg. But today? I blocked him first. The Chat Feed popped up, loud as ever: [Nooo, Ley-Bae, don't block Shay-Shay! He's just got abandonment issues. Comfort him!] [Shay's heart = shattered; Eyes = red. Ley, go! One pout and he's yours again!] Then Shayne called. Didn't say a word. Just breathed for ten seconds and hung up. The Chat Feed freaked out. [AHHHH SHAY LOVES LEY SO MUCH HE JUST SUCKS AT SAYING IT. THIS COWARD'S GONNA LOSE HIS GIRL.]

In order to protect my father, I was tortured for ten hours, but my father was busy celebrating his adopted daughter’s eighteenth birthday. With my dying breath, I called my father and said, “Dad, it’s my birthday today. Could you wish me a happy birthday?” “You crazy monster! You got your mother killed in order to celebrate your birthday! How could you still ask me to celebrate your birthday? You should just die!” With that said, he hung up. The next day, my corpse was placed in different flower pots and put in front of a police station. My father was in charge of inspecting my corpse, and he could immediately tell that the murderer did this for revenge. What they did to me was cruel and made a mockery of the police’s authority. But he did not manage to tell that the deceased was the daughter he hated.

“Miss Green, the results show that you have late-stage pancreatic cancer. The situation isn’t good for you. If you give up on treatment, you might have less than a month left. Are you sure you don’t want to receive treatment? Will your husband agree to it?” “I’m sure that… he will.” After I hung up, I surveyed the empty house and felt sadness fill every fiber of my heart. I had thought that the pain I felt was due to my dear old friend, gastritis, but it was cancer. I sighed and looked at the picture on the table. The eighteen-year-old Zach Stone stared at me in the photo. It had been years since, but I still remembered how the snow had fallen on my hair. At that time, Zach had smiled and asked whether this counted as us growing old together.