Novel & Cerita I Left Him He Cried In Regret

Asher and Sienna have been inseparable since childhood. The night before Asher leaves for Alpha training, they share one unforgettable moment, their first night together. He promises her that no matter what happens, when he returns, she will be his Luna, mate or not. Years later, Sienna stands at the edge of the packhouse crowd, her heart pounding with hope and their young son balanced on her hip. The moment Asher steps out of the car, his scent hits her like a wave, he’s her mate. Joy floods her chest… until he tenses, barely glancing her way. Without a word, Asher walks around the car and opens the door for a stunning, pregnant woman. And just like that, Sienna’s world begins to unravel. "I believed his promise. I carried his child... I waited for him, I was fateful to him and he came back with someone else. He broke his promise, but I won't let him break me."

I was the Luna who gave everything to her Alpha—my heart, my loyalty, my dignity. Ethan repaid me by sleeping with other she-wolves, over and over again, and every night our mate bond slowly poisoned what was left of my soul. On our third wedding anniversary, when he suggested I could "try" sleeping with someone else too, I finally broke. My childhood friend, a young Alpha, called me when he heard the news and proposed to me over the phone. His gentle voice healed every wound Ethan had carved into me, so I said yes. Now I've decided to give Ethan moonbreak herb and sever our bond forever. But Ethan never bothered to ask what I gave him to drink. He was too busy running off to his favorite she-wolf's bed. He has no idea that in thirty days, when the moon breaks, our mate bond will shatter completely, and the "chains" that bound us as fated mates will be gone. This time, I'm really leaving.

I gave him nine years. Nine years of stretching every coin, raising our son alone, sleeping on my side of the bed because I could not bring myself to take his. Nine years of telling Dave his father was working hard so they could have a better life. I believed it myself. Until I saw him on a public street with his hand on another woman’s waist, looking at her the way I spent nine years waiting for him to look at me. When he crossed the pavement it was not to apologise. It was to tell me she was his wife. Six months married. He told me to keep things calm, walked back to her, and introduced me as his cousin. The divorce papers came that same night. I needed a job immediately. For my son. For the bills that would not wait for me to finish falling apart. So I pulled myself together the way I always do and kept moving. I did not expect Mac Harlow. I did not expect him to run three blocks to return my dropped folder or offer me a job despite his sister’s calls to have me removed. I did not expect his daughter to find my son within ten minutes and decide they were already family. I did not expect to discover that the man I was starting to trust was connected to everything I was trying to leave behind. He did not know. I believe that. But Marshall knows now that someone else sees what he threw away. And he wants it back. He is nine years too late. Mac is looking at me like I am worth staying for. Not fixing. Not managing. Staying for. I spent nine years being someone’s afterthought. Never again.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

My boy friend Caleb Ford's childhood sweetheart, Julia Leclair, is losing her hair from chemotherapy. So, he orders me to cut mine off and make her a wig. "Julia's allergic to synthetic wigs. You've been growing your hair for ten years—it's perfect." I refuse, but his friends tie me down. Someone shaves my head to the scalp, buzzing through my thick, glossy hair until nothing's left but a butchered mess. Julia sits in her wheelchair and laughs, saying I look like a toad. Caleb smiles and nods in agreement. He adds with a chuckle, "It's just some hair. Was that really necessary?" But back when I was bullied for having uneven, choppy short hair for six straight years, it was he who stood in front of me. He had his arms spread wide as he shielded me from harm. Now he's the one wielding the blade. One by one, their little circle chimes in. They tell me not to hold a grudge against someone who's sick. Caleb snaps impatiently, "Stop trying to talk sense into her. She can get lost! Did you see that fit she threw over a few strands of hair? It's not like they won't grow back." I turn around and walk away. I never look back. Later, I hear that Caleb begs for my forgiveness by kneeling his way up 9000 steps until his knees are ruined.

He didn’t come to find her. He came to sign a business deal. But fate had other plans — and a pair of familiar eyes waiting to meet his. When billionaire investor Adrian Blackwood visits a local primary school to discuss a scholarship program, he doesn’t expect to play hero. Yet when he sees a little girl being cornered by bullies, something inside him cracks. He steps in — cold, detached as always — until she looks up at him with eyes too familiar to ignore. Eyes that mirror his own. Her name is Aria. Smart, stubborn, and heartbreakingly brave… and she has no father. The connection hits him harder than he wants to admit. What Adrian doesn’t know is that Aria’s mother is Elena Hart, the woman he left behind years ago in college — the only woman he’s ever loved, and the one who still doesn’t know the truth about why he really left. But the past never stays buried. As Adrian starts to piece together the truth — about Elena, about Aria, and about the powerful enemies who forced him to disappear — old secrets resurface with dangerous consequences. Someone has been watching them both, someone who knows what Adrian tried to protect Elena from. And when a buried scandal threatens not just his empire but their child’s safety, Adrian realizes leaving her was his biggest mistake… and coming back might be the one thing that destroys them all.

I died in the year my husband hated me most. Unable to endure his endless silent treatment any longer, I swallowed a bottle of pills and ended my life. At the crematorium, watching the flames roar inside the furnace, he allowed himself a rare smile. “Someone as vile as her doesn’t deserve to be laid to rest whole.” So when the staff handed him the urn, he flipped it over. My ashes scattered across the floor in an instant. All this time, he had believed I was responsible for the death of his first love. That belief was why he had schemed and plotted for years, all for this precise moment of final desecration. When it was over, he stepped over my ashes and walked away without looking back. Though not long after that, he fell to his knees and begged the crematorium to give my ashes back to him.

On our fifth dating anniversary, my boyfriend, Luke Bolton, gives me a cheap bracelet worth less than a hundred dollars. On the same night, he splurges ten million dollars on a yacht for his first love, Cindy Gale. I refuse to accept this, and he accuses me of making a scene. "I gave Cindy that gift to boost the company's stock price, not because I still have feelings for her," he says. "You're poor, and I still promised to marry you. Isn't that enough? This was actually your last test, Elisa Gray, but you failed it." I break up with him, and he immediately proposes to Cindy. Five years after that, we meet again at a luxury hotel during a business summit. His company is about to become an industry giant, and Cindy is holding onto his arm. When he sees me, I'm standing in a fountain, all drenched and disheveled. "Elisa," Luke sneers. "When you turned me down back then, did it ever cross your mind that you might end up worse than a homeless person? "Don't think acting pitiful here will make me feel sorry and take you back." I ignore him. My son's cherished blue diamond was a birthday gift from his father, and he accidentally dropped it into the fountain. He's so upset that he's about to cry, and I have to find it right away.

After my older sister, Beatrice Hartwell, has passed away, my brother-in-law, Theodore Wesley, transfers me into his department. At first, I think he's merely watching out for me. But whenever Theodore bumps into someone else, he often leaves his sentences hanging. "After my wife has passed away, it's all thanks to Megan keeping me company all the time that I…" His words are often half-minced and filled with euphemisms. Because of him, the company is filled with rumors of me killing Beatrice just to take over her position at one point. I plead to Theodore to make things clear for everyone in the future. But during a Monday meeting, Theodore continues to mourn Beatrice longingly while bringing me up in a roundabout way. "The reason why Megan is late is that she spent the night in my house last night… Ah, I shouldn't have brought this up. Please don't overthink this, everyone." The thing is, Theodore is the one who wants me to edit the business proposal at his place. My boyfriend is with us the whole time! My colleagues all shoot me knowing glances immediately. They start muttering about "seeing the sister-in-law plot being manifested in real life". I try to explain myself, and yet Theodore keeps mucking things up for me. "Right! She was just editing the proposal in my bedroom—wait, no! It took place in the study! It's my fault for not knowing how to talk properly! The more I explain, the more chaotic things become!" I'm enraged, to say the least. Theodore doesn't know how to speak, right? Then he's better off silent for the rest of his life!

In the seventh year of my marriage to Simon Heath, I finally walk away from him after his 32nd mistress shows up at my door. I join a classified government program and disappear from his world. Now he's falling apart and calling me non-stop. "Lily, I was wrong. Please come back." In the past, a single word of apology from him would have been enough to make me stay. But not this time. This time, he's bound to be disappointed.

During the holiday, a hashtag related to honeymoon trips goes viral on social media. The topic is, "How are you planning to spend your honeymoon?" One of the threads that has the most replies reads, "I have to bring my mistress along, of course." "Wow! That's crazy. Can you teach us how to pull that off?" I frown as I scroll down the thread and find the reply. "There are a lot of poor, female backpackers these days. As long as the mistress acts pitiful enough, you can pull the wool over your wife's eyes. And just like that, a couple's haven will become a world of three. "My wife and I will be going on our honeymoon trip tomorrow. I'll give everyone live updates in this thread." Feeling disgusted, I close the thread. … The next day, my husband, Sean Clifford, and I meet a poor, female backpacker on the road. She has no car, money, or any suitcases with her. Sprawling herself across the windshield, she begs, "Can you give me a ride, sir? I have blisters all over my feet. I can't walk anymore."