left at the altar

On my wedding day, the first love of my boyfriend appeared and declared she wanted my place at the altar. Sobbing theatrically, she pleaded, "Claire, I’m seriously ill. You have your whole life to be with Evan. Just let me have this wedding." And my boyfriend backed her up without hesitation. "Claire, you’re already pregnant with my child, and we’ve signed the marriage papers. You’ve got everything you need. This wedding? It doesn’t matter." The guests gawked, while I stood there as the punchline of their jokes. But instead of causing a scene, I kept my composure. That same day, I booked an abortion and looked his first love straight in the eye with a smile. "Sure, take the wedding, and take him too. He’s all yours."

Jack Spencer used to be someone else. Someone older, someone hardened, someone who made the mistake of trusting the wrong people—and paid for it with his life. Now, he’s in a different body, staring at a future that doesn’t belong to him. He should be grateful for this second chance. He should want to start over. But how do you move forward when every part of you is still trapped in the past? How do you live when you already died once? Jack tells himself he doesn’t need friends. He doesn’t need love. He doesn’t need anything but distance. But the more he pushes people away, the more they insist on seeing the person he refuses to be. And when the remnants of his past begin creeping into his new life, Jack has to decide: Is he doomed to repeat the same mistakes, or can he finally break free from the dead-end path that refuses to let him go? (Trigger Warnings Included)

My fiancé dumped me the moment he found out about my rare blood type. "That condition of yours? Yeah, it'd just drain my wallet." I was spiraling when Vincent showed up—like some knight in shining armor, pulling me out of the wreckage. He didn't care about my blood type. We barely dated before he proposed, and for a while, married life felt perfect. Until a year later, when I overheard him talking to a doctor. "Vincent, you already took 400 milliliters of Sophia's blood last month, and now you want another 200? Are you insane? Even if you love Emma, you can't just drain an innocent woman dry for her!" "A little more won't kill her. Stop overreacting." My head spun. My whole body went cold. That's when it hit me—our perfect marriage had been a lie from the start.

Sophia Kristalene Grande is in her best state of mind whilst trying to move forward from the heartbreak she dealt with in the past. Living the best life she can ever have in the Big Apple! But one morning she just woke up to a scandal that made her life a bit complicated. Causing her to go back to where it should be fixed - the Philippines. Oh! She can't go back! No! Never! The country is a bit too small to hide from the man who broke her young heart which was Malcolm Hinge Humphries

“I, Leila the wolfless, reject you, Alpha Tatum as my mate and I denounce you as my Alpha! You are free to be with her.” “Leila….I just thought—” “Don’t! Where were you when I got the news of our child? With her! Where were you when I was kidnapped? With her! And today? You took her to the hospital, leaving me to bleed out on the street, and now you ask me, why didn’t I tell you that when you left today, you were taking the life of our child?” All the years of sour jealousy, bitterness, pain and vain waiting burst out of Leila. In front of her is her Alpha, her husband, her first and only love, her saviour...and also the man who pushed her into hell with his own hands.

My mate Derek, Alpha of the SilverCrest Pack, secretly marked me two years ago. But he still hasn't held our mating ceremony to publicly announce my position. I've been working as his "assistant," helping him manage pack affairs all this time. Every time Derek cheats with his childhood sweetheart, Vivian, he promises to finally hold our mating ceremony. Two years. Ten promised ceremonies. Ten broken promises. The first time, he said Vivian's dog had died. "I can't hold a celebration while she's grieving," he told me, his eyes not quite meeting mine. "It wouldn't be right." The second time, Vivian had a stomach ache. He left the ceremony venue minutes before it was supposed to start, rushing off to cook soup for his precious childhood friend. After that, each scheduled mating ceremony fell through because his childhood sweetheart always had some kind of emergency. I've cried. I've screamed. I've begged. Derek always gives me the same answer: "Viv and I are just friends. You're my true mate. Taking care of pack members is your responsibility too. Don't be so jealous." After the tenth canceled ceremony, I finally gave up. I slid the mate bond dissolution papers across his desk. "The Alpha Council has approved our request to break the mate bond," I said, my voice steadier than I expected. "You and I are no longer connected." That’s when the powerful Alpha went crazy...

Three months into my pregnancy, I was resting at home to ensure the baby’s health when a typhoon struck. My husband, Adam Quinn, received a call and rushed out to meet his childhood sweetheart. As a result, I experienced severe abdominal pain. The ambulance taking me to the hospital was involved in an accident, and I lost the baby. Adam arrived much later, only to blame me, saying, "Mona Thomas, why are you so useless? You couldn’t even keep the baby!"

I married Rafe Maretti—the man who owned the Maretti Casino empire. Sophisticated, ruthless, but sinfully charming. By year three of our marriage, I introduced my little sister to his nephew, Adam Moretti—twenty-five, all sharp smiles and sharper ambition. He ran the dirtier side of the family’s business—arms, drugs, the kind of trade that dripped blood and money in equal parts. I married the powerful, irresistible uncle. She married the young, dangerous nephew. It was supposed to be our fairytale. Then one day, I got kidnapped in Rafe’s casino. Snatched by a rival mafia family desperate to force Rafe to sign over one of his biggest, most profitable casinos. Except Rafe didn’t answer the phone or even notice I was gone. The kidnappers grew impatient. First, it was slaps. Then punches. Then they shattered my leg and buried a knife in my stomach. Still no word from my husband. Until finally, after what felt like a hundred unanswered calls, a single message came through. "I’m with Bianca. She’s having a stomach. Stop calling." Once the kidnappers realized I had no value, they dumped me in a rotting warehouse like discarded luggage. It was Isla, my sister, who found me. She got me out. And then the brakes failed. The car spun out. Isla went unconscious beside me. I tried calling Adam. Isla’s husband. But as soon the call went through, all I could hear was. “Leave me along. Isla, I am in the middle of something here.” When I clearly heard a woman’s voice in the back. If not for a passing stranger, Isla and me wouldn’t have made it to the hospital, let along have survived. So when I opened my eyes again, the first thing I thought was: I’m divorcing that sorry bastard. The Maretti can go to hell.

On her anniversary, Evelyn is diagnosed with cancer—only to come home and find her husband cheating with their son’s teacher. Worse, her little boy calls the other woman “Mommy” and calls Evelyn “a bad woman.” Abandoned by the man she loved and the child she raised, Evelyn signs the divorce papers with tears in her eyes. Just when she’s ready to give up, a strange little girl calls her “Mom”—and her father, Nicholas, offers the warmth Evelyn thought she’d never feel again. She lost everything. Will fate give her one last chance?

After three years of living with my wife’s family, everyone thought they could treat me like a pushover. Me? I’m just waiting for her to hold my hand before I can give her the world.