Like We Used To Lirik

I glared at him, my voice steady and cold. "Yes, I slept with your father. And guess what? We're married now, which makes me your stepmother. So get used to calling me mom." ””” After catching her boyfriend, Ethan, in bed with her best friend, Sophia is heartbroken and desperate to escape. A spontaneous trip to the Maldives with her sister seems like the perfect distraction. But when she runs into Nathaniel James, a successful billionaire she shared an unforgettable connection with, their chemistry is undeniable. One wild night leads to an impulsive wedding, but what seemed like a fresh start quickly turns complicated. Sophia discovers that Nathaniel is Ethan’s estranged father, and the past she’s been running from is suddenly inescapably tied to her present. To make matters worse, Sophia’s hidden daughter, Lily, unknowingly to her, is Nathaniel's child, the same man who rejected both of them years ago. As the truth comes out, secrets, lies, and betrayal threaten to tear everything apart. Can their love survive the truth, or will the past destroy everything they’ve built?

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."

It was not until after I married Bennett that I found out he had a clingy little childhood friend who loved to play the victim. On the very first day of our marriage, at dinner, I simply asked Bennett to pass me a bite of food. She immediately exploded. "Holly, you're disgusting! Bennett already used those utensils, and you seriously asked him to serve you food? What, don't you have hands?" I froze, completely blindsided. Before I could even react, Bennett put down his spoon and went straight to her, wrapping her in his arms like she was the one who had been wronged. Then he turned to me and said I should just get my own food from now on. However, honestly, wasn't it normal for a husband to serve his wife a bite? What was so outrageous about that? I barely got a word out before Bennett shut me down in a low, firm voice. "That's final. If Rosie doesn't like it, then we're not doing it. End of discussion."

She spent two years devoting herself to him and loving him like crazy. Suddenly, one day he gave her a cheque and told her to leave. Tessa felt a heartbreak like no other when she realised she was just a substitute for Aaron Wentworth’s crush. Once his crush returned, he didn’t hesitate to cast her aside like trash. Tessa left but returned five years later as a better version of herself. Not only that, but she had three little cuties following her around, calling her mommy. … “Tessa, you’ve changed,” Aaron said, noticing how she carried herself with an air of confidence but Tessa scoffed. “Don’t worry, Mr Wentworth. I didn’t change for you.” … Aaron Wentworth was shocked as he looked at the three adorable cute faces looking up at him. When he found out Tessa had returned to the City, he used his resources to find her. But he found her three children instead. “Little ones, where’s your daddy?” he asked, wondering if Tessa had gotten married while she was away. “We don’t have a daddy, Mr handsome. Can you be our daddy?”

Sometimes we feel like its actually love but we maybe confused not its not may be its an attraction i guess

I am an Omega. One day, Alpha Carl Blanchard found me in the Borderlands and took me in. After we formed the mate bond, he spoiled me senseless, never once caring who was watching. Now, everyone was whispering about the cold, ruthless Alpha who treats me—an Omega who used to be a Rogue—like I'm something sacred. They said it defied everything the Moon Goddess ever intended. I used to think he loved me down to the bone, that he just couldn't help showing the whole world how crazy he was about me. But then, I overhear him talking to his close friend. "I'm the Alpha of the Eastlands. I rule ten packs. If I don't paint Daisy as my weakness and my one obsession, how else am I supposed to keep Fiona off my enemies' radar? Turns out every wound I took for him was a damn joke. If that's how it is, I'm done playing Luna of the Eastlands. On my last day there, I made one call. "I'm in. I'll head to the Borderlands and spend the next ten years in closed research on medicinal herbs." When Carl found me gone, he came after me with bloodshot eyes and his pride in ruins. "Daisy… are you really leaving me?"

Do I need to cut off someone’s limbs, little flame?” he growled into my ear. I tilted my head instinctively “He’s nothing you need to worry about,” I whispered. “I’m not worried, baby. I’m annoyed.” His growled. But I barely processed his words. “You called me baby,” I said, stunned. “And?” “I didn’t think wolves used such... terms of endearment.” He chuckled darkly. “We use whatever we want, ‘baby.’ Those words aren’t reserved for other species.” He kissed the side of my neck, slow and possessive. My lips parted in shock and hunger. Hunger for him. For more of his words that seemed to touch not just my heart, but the deepest, most vulnerable parts of me. “You’re in an awfully good mood,” I whispered, biting my lip to stop a moan. “I deserve it. I’ve been in a terrible mood since I left you in that hallway three nights ago. I can’t wait to be done with this damn party so I can kiss you properly.” His voice was thick with want. I felt weightless and boneless. Every nerve in my body tuned to him. He was too much. “Are you finally free?” I asked, my voice shaky from how turned on I was. “I’m not, little flame,” he said, biting my ear and licking the same spot after. “But for tonight? You have me all to yourself.” “Sounds exciting,” I breathed. “It is. Are you wet yet?” he whispered, voice like molten sin. “I am. Very.” “Good,” he murmured. “Stay like that all night. It will get worse but you’ll think of me while we mingle. And then, when this party is over, when you can’t take the ache anymore, I’ll let you come.”

The journey to hell starts with the happiness within our smiley face, unexpected the fear after. The place that we've to expect as paradise was wrong cause there is no paradise after our first step and the sad part there is no turning back after you enter the gate of mystery and fear. We've locked in this place and we don't know what we will gonna go to, we're like screaming dead and no one listens.

Rosalie Hills is a girl from a military family the is so used to moving that she doesn’t know how to let her guard down she moves to a new town and falls for a guy but isn’t quite sure how to open up to him. We also have our mystery boy who fell for Rosalie at first sight but doesn’t have the courage to ever profess his feelings to her.

Every week, mt mate Alpha Bruce dragged a new side-chick into our bed. Right in front of me. They clawed at each other like I didn't exist. Each time felt like silver shredding through my chest, my wolf howling from the inside out. He did it to hurt me. On purpose. Over and over. Using their bodies to spit on what we used to be. Then came our ten-year anniversary banquet. He waltzed in with his side-piece—Moye. Five years he'd been screwing her. She wore my heels. My custom gown. Even the mate ring and necklace I once thought meant forever. Bruce stood there, smirking in front of the whole pack. "Don't like what she's wearing? Strip yours and hand it over. And don't bother coming to my bed tonight—she's a hundred times better." The room howled with laughter. I was the punchline. But I stood up, met his eyes, and said, "I want to break the bond." He snorted. "You've said that, what, a hundred times? I'm over it. You begged me to mark you, remember? Gave up your pride for that Luna crown." More laughter. But what none of them saw coming? This time, I was done. Done with him. Done with the Luna title. Done chasing something dead. I was ready to sever the mate bond—for real.