Mae Whitman And Her Husband

Gaya ng ibang babae na hindi agad natatauhan, sinikap ni Yasmine na paibigin ang lalaking gaya ni Alfred na mahulog sa kanya. Ngunit, sa loob ng tatlong taon nilang kasal, wala pa ring nangyayari. Mahal niya ito ngunit wala itong pakialam sa kanya. Nang minsan siyang mabugbog at mapunta sa bingit na kamatayan, ang asawa niya ay nasa piling ng ibang babae. Labis niyang ikinadurog ang pangyayaring 'yon. Dahilan din 'yon para tuluyan siyang sumuko. Ngunit, kasabay no'n ay ang pagharang ni Alfred sa kagustuhan niya. Ayaw nitong maghiwalay sila ngunit buo na ang desisyon niyang makipag-divorce rito. Ano kaya ang mangyayari sa pagitan nila? Magkaayos pa kaya sila?

Five years later, Serena Amour left Las Vegas, and today she set foot again in this wounded country to avenge her, but unfortunately she was trapped back in the same bed through a hot night with her ex-husband, Damien Duff. Serena thought Damien would help a little in his revenge mission, but the arrogant man instead used their son as a tool to ensnare him. The jerk is, Damien instead marries Serena's sister as a form of revenge.

Sa araw, siya ang mahinhin at maparaan na chief secretary, at sa gabi, siya ang malambot at charming na kapares sa kama. Paglipas ng tatlong taon ng mutual support, akala niya ay minahal siya nito. Nagpropose siya sa binata, ngunit narinig niya ang sinabi nito: "Ito ay laro lamang na kasali ang katawan pero hindi ang puso. Sa tingin mo seseryosohin ko to?" Sobra siyang nasaktan at lumingon paalis. Simula non, ang buhay niya ay umangat, umangat din siya sa career, at naging gold medal lawyer na walang sino mang nangahas sa legal community. Merong hindi mabilang na manliligaw sa paligid niya. Pinagsisihan iyon ng binata at tinulak siya sa dingding na may namumugtong mata: "Ang katawan ko, ang buhay ko, lahat ay sayo, will you marry me?" Maliwanag ang mga ngiti niya: "Pasensya na, gumilid ka, hinaharangan mo ang panibagong buhay ko."

Talia Herman thought life couldn’t throw anything worse at her than Maxton Carter, cocky, arrogant, and the hockey heartthrob who once broke her leg and nearly her spirit. But when her mother marries into the wealthy Carter family, Talia is forced to live under the same roof as her worst enemy… who might just be her biggest weakness. Maxton is hiding more than just bruises from the rink, he’s hiding how much he actually feels for the firecracker now sleeping across the hall. Their chemistry is undeniable, their tension explosive, but one dangerous bet threatens to destroy any hope for peace. Between fights, stolen glances, and secrets that could burn the whole Carter mansion down, Talia and Maxton are about to find out what happens when love and rivalry collide, on and off the ice.

I had everything planned a month in advance for our holiday. I was going to take my wife and daughter on a trip to see the country's beautiful landscapes, but just before we were supposed to leave, they both disappeared. I ended up standing alone in the pouring rain, trying to call them. My daughter's voice came through over the phone—it was cold and impatient. "Mommy's having dinner with Uncle Skyler. We don't want to go anymore." Right after that, the call was cut off. I had been blocked. They locked me out of the house on purpose and left me to freeze out there all night. The rain had already drenched me, and I was running a high fever that turned into pneumonia. Meanwhile, the two of them were off enjoying a vacation with Skyler Shire. That was the moment I knew—this marriage was well and truly over.

I've decided to hire Queenie Sullivan, an impoverished student with excellent grades, as my tutor in my studies. However, she asked me whether or not she could bring another student named Timothy Dunn with her to the tutor session. After I turned her request down politely, Timothy left while looking crestfallen. But he got into an accident immediately afterward. Queenie continued to tutor me. Gradually, we started dating, and we got married later on. Life was amazing after our marriage… or so it seemed. Unfortunately, I was diagnosed with stomach cancer. On the night when my cancer tormented me to no end, Queenie locked me up at home and watched as I painted the floor with the blood I hacked out. "You owe Timothy this much, Zachary. It's your turn to have a taste of despair." Only then did realization dawn on me. It turned out that Queenie had been hating me all these years. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Queenie has asked me if she can bring Timothy along with her to the tutor session.

“C-Claus, please. I cannot-no more,” My shivering voice failed to stop him and he fastened his pace. “The night is young, little mouse. I’m gonna wreck you and every thought you have of escaping,” he was still holding a grudge against me for trying to run away. “I gave you a choice, be my slave or wife, and here you chose the former. Tell me, Hazel, what am I ought to do if my wife is squirming in the arms of another male, batting her lashes at him, and pressing this,” he smacked across my bare bottom hard and I winced shutting my eyes. “This body of a temptress against him,” I didn’t know my actions would fuel him like this. He was being overly unreasonable. He released inside me enormous times, and still, his length was hard and angry, ready to demolish my weeping core. Our mixed fluids seeped through me to paint my inner thighs but this barbarian refuse to stop.

My husband, Cesare Ferrante, the most feared Don of the Ferrante family, had always hated children. Yet everything changed the moment my stepsister, Bianca Moretti, moved in next door with her six-month-old baby. Suddenly, my husband became obsessed with that child. He personally fed the baby formula, sang lullabies, and carried the baby everywhere he went. Every day, he came home exhausted at dawn, yet his face glowed with joy, as if that baby occupied his entire soul. I became invisible to him. Three days ago, someone forced my car off the road, and I crashed into the median. Blood streamed down my forehead, and my vision swam. I called Cesare 55 times. He did not answer a single call. Instead, he posted a photo of the baby on his social media. [My little angel smiled today!] I had had enough. Tonight at the family banquet, every member of the famiglia was seated around the table. I raised my final toast, then set down my glass. "I want a divorce." They all froze. "Are you insane?" My parents' voices rose in unison. Cesare grabbed my wrist, disbelief written across his face. "Giulia, you want to divorce me just because I was busy taking care of the baby and didn't answer your calls? You're actually jealous of a six-month-old child?" I did not meet his eyes. Instead, I stared at the glaring kiss mark behind his ear. "Since you love that child so much," I said calmly, "I'll make it easy for you. Go be that child's father."

Ella Mae Emerson, the girl who stays hidden at all costs, the girl who likes to be alone with eyes glued to the floor, words coming out as stutters, and nervousness her own personal shadow. She's just a girl who's trying to make it through the day with anxiety clinging to her back.Declan Olin Anderson, the new kid who transferred with drooling features and a charming attitude. Football is his sport, you could say he's quite the stellar athlete who's got game both on and off the field. If you push he'll pull, he doesn't quit because no good athlete does.She wasn't like him and he wasn't like her. They each got their own problems but finding each other wasn't one of them.*"You're beautiful Ellie, that's why they're staring." He whispers into my ear. My cheeks go hot as my eyes meet his. I don't know why, but when Declan calls me beautiful I get this feeling that I can't describe. He makes me feel so special. At this moment it's just me and him, he smirks and adds, "You're my girl, not theirs, they are jealous and they should be."

The lab blew, and my girlfriend—Beatrice Whitmore—didn't even glance my way. She bolted straight for Joseph, wrapping herself around him. When the dust settled, she climbed into the ambulance with him. I was still on the ground, bleeding out, and she didn't spare me a look. Eighteen years raising him, and apparently, that was all the space her heart had left. My coworkers dragged me to the hospital. ICU, barely breathing. When I finally clawed my way out, throat raw, I called my advisor. "Prof. Beaumont, I'm in. I'll go. Even if it means disappearing for five years, I don't care." That was supposed to be my wedding month. Not anymore.