Little Lad Berries And Cream

A love life so bland she compared it to cream of wheat. When she thought it couldn't get worse, she died? She woke up in what she thought was heaven, but Saint Peter was nowhere to be found. Can this new world turn her bowl of cream of wheat into an Ice Cream Sundae? Or she was destined to become a lonely old cat lady.

At Ryder Quinn’s kindergarten parent-child sports day, I expected my husband, Michael Quinn, to be away on a business trip. Instead, I found Michael on stage, dressed in a ballet tutu, dancing as one of the "little swans" in the fathers’ performance. I had barely taken a step forward when a little girl in a floral dress darted into his arms, calling out to him in the sweetest voice, "Daddy!" There they stood: Michael, his assistant, Janine Carter, and her daughter—all in matching family outfits. The moment our eyes met, Michael quickly pulled away from her, fumbling for an excuse. "Janine’s a single mom. It isn’t easy for her. I was just helping out." I smiled, cold and steady, and handed him the divorce papers. "Then, do me a favor too, Michael. Stop wasting my youth."

My fiance, Alexander Elrod, the most outstanding fashion designer of the 21st century, had finally agreed to marry me. He promised to propose once he won the Paris Fashion Award. When the day arrived, I braved a typhoon to attend his celebration banquet. There, I watched as Alexander and his assistant, Stella Monroe, kissed shamelessly in front of the cameras. Then, they proudly displayed their wedding rings. Alexander picked up the microphone. “Stella dear, thank you for your hard work during this time. In the future, I’ll continue leading the fashion world with you, one trend after another!” My colleagues all turned to look at me and expected me to cause a scene. I smiled, and I was the first to applaud them. “How wonderful! Wishing you two a lifetime of happiness.” The room erupted in shocked murmurs. After the event, Alexander immediately dragged me aside to explain, “Stella stayed up with me for nearly half a year for the Paris Fashion Award. Her mother’s terminally ill, and her last wish was to see Stella get married. Must you take it so seriously? “Once work is over, I’ll divorce her and throw you the grandest wedding, okay?” I walked away without answering him. Then, I gave my father a call. “Dad, the ten-year bet is over. I’ve lost. I’ll come home and take over the family business.”

When my parents call to tell me they are taking me to my childhood friend, Oliver Holland's house to meet his blind date, he is still asleep beside me. I think they are joking and whisper, "Oliver, they said they've found you someone to date." He gives a lazy hum and pulls me into his arms. "Gerry, help me pick out something to wear later. And fix my hair, too." When I freeze, Oliver opens his eyes and lets out a short, mocking laugh. "What's wrong with you? We're just sleeping together. You don't actually think I'm going to marry you, do you?"

In the final second before the elevator crashed down, my husband finally picked up my desperate call for help. I begged him, who was in charge of elevator maintenance, to save me. "That elevator was just serviced. What game are you playing?" he snapped. "Wasn't your silent treatment so strong? Keep going and stop bothering me. It's Marina's birthday today." I never reached out to him again. I died. Later, he'd have given anything just to see me one more time.

I had moved out of our house, but my boyfriend—the one I had given up everything to run away with—had no idea. Neither did his possessive younger brother, the one who used to knock on my door calling for me. My boyfriend's first love had taken up all their attention. They no longer listened when I played the piano. They even forgot about my cat fur allergy and brought that woman's cat home. My boyfriend, Ian Blake, had snapped, "If anyone's leaving, it's you. There's no way Eva's cat is going anywhere." His brother, Sebastian, had said, "Sienna, Eva is my girlfriend. How could I give up her cat for you?" When I woke up in the hospital after going into anaphylactic shock from my allergy, I decided to leave them. Back home, I made my first call to my mother. "Mom, I'm ready to accept the arranged marriage."

My husband, Oliver Dawson, "forgot" everything in a car crash—and somehow fell for me all over again. After getting out of the hospital, he said he wanted to date me from scratch. Moved out, made it all romantic. People thought we were couple goals. I figured he just wanted that first-date spark back. Then I overheard him with his best friend. "The amnesia was a lie. I only moved out to take care of Katy. She's pregnant. Cecelia's never wanted kids. I'm not going childless." I glanced down at my barely-there bump and booked a hospital appointment. Then I found the memory-erasing pill Mom left me—and took it. Oliver had no clue I'd forget him in seven days. Completely.

I fell for my next-door neighbor, James Grayson. I even tried to seduce him in a sexy nightdress. But he humiliated me by throwing me out in front of everyone. I was utterly embarrassed. The next day, he told me straight up that he was getting engaged, and I should just give up. So, I did. I let him go and said yes to someone else’s proposal. But on my wedding day, James showed up looking like a mess and tried to stop the wedding. “Summer, I regret everything.” But by then, my heart already belonged to my husband.

At our first anniversary celebration, my wife publicly announced that she was divorcing me to marry her true love. My past mission targets coldly watched me, thinking I would cause a ruckus and trouble Ivan Lowe like I always had. However, I merely walked over to a nearby lake and jumped into it. Unbeknownst to them, Serena Gale was my very last mission target. If I failed, I was supposed to go home. So, why did they only begin to regret their choices after I finally died?

For five years I had been the lover of my best friend’s little brother… and I found out that he was only using me for practice!