Mlp The Beginning Of The End

I've been in a secret relationship with Declan Gibson for five years, and I've tried to seduce him more times than I can count. Yet, when I stand in front of him in my birthday suit and a pair of bunny ears, all he does is worry that I'll catch a cold and wrap me in a blanket. I used to think his restraint came from being the mafia don, that he was saving our first time for our wedding night. However, one month before the ceremony, he secretly plans the city's grandest fireworks show to celebrate his childhood sweetheart's birthday. They hug and share a slice of cake in public. That night, they check into a hotel. … The next morning, I watch them leave together. That's when I realize Declan is not restrained. He just doesn't love me, so I walk out of the hotel. I call my parents. "Dad, I've broken up with Declan. I'll marry into the Sullivan family as planned." My father is stunned. "I thought you were madly in love with Declan. Why did you break up? I heard Bryson can't have children. You've always loved kids. What will you do once you marry him?" "It's fine," I reply, disheartened. "We can always adopt."

Yvonne Xander had three of her ribs broken before she finally managed to escape from the mental asylum. After she escaped, the first thing she did was to sign the agreement to donate her body after her death. “Miss Xander, we must let you know that this is a special donation. Your body will be used to test a new chemical reagent. By then, there might be nothing of you left.” Yvonne pressed down on her aching chest. Her broken ribs made her voice sound like a broken ventilator. With great difficulty, she grimaced. “Just what I want.”

Esme Wynter’s marriage to Lennox Mercer was written like a business plan. He gave her protection and power; she gave him peace and a convenient alliance. She told herself she didn’t need love. He made it clear he didn’t believe in it. But when the test site collapsed, Lennox threw himself over her without hesitation— and Esme’s last memory was his heartbeat against hers before everything went dark. When she opened her eyes again, she was surrounded by blinding white light, unable to move forward, and unable to return. Then a guide told her she and him were not fated, and their connection had become a curse, one that doomed them both whenever they tried to love. And then came the rules: You must not fall in love with him. You must ensure he finds his destined partner in each lifetime. You must not intervene beyond your designated role. Break them, and one—or both—will die. Fail all five lifetimes, and your souls would be erased forever. Each time Esme awakens, she forgets the last. Each time, she meets him again— as a king, a freedom fighter, a general, a mercenary. And each time, her heart betrays her before her mind can remember. And in his own distant eyes, there is the hidden craving for her love, like a man trying to recall a dream he’s not supposed to have. She was never meant to fall for him again. But perhaps… he never stopped loving her.

The third year after I got diagnosed with intermittent amnesia, I happened to overhear my husband, Lucien Rook, chatting with his friends. “Lucien, Anneliese loses her memories every couple of months, and you keep making us impersonate you to live with her. Aren’t you afraid that one of us might take it all the way one day?” “What’s there to be afraid of?” Lucien laughed uninhibitedly, swishing the alcohol in his glass. “Annie is cold and distant. As long as you guys don’t tempt her, she won’t have any such desires. “But I’m warning you now. You can act all you want, but you can’t ever sleep with her. Once I’ve had my fun, I will be going home to her.” For three years, every time I lost my memories, Lucien was not the one who would hold my hand and embrace me, or even sleep with me in the same bed. In three years, I had lost my memories nine times, and nine men had pretended to be my husband. What they did not know was that my amnesia had been cured two years ago.

The hotel called, politely reminding me that the condoms used last night were unpaid and had been charged to my membership card. I was stunned. I'd been working late until midnight and hadn't set foot in any hotel. I confronted my husband, the only person who knew my card code. Nathan Phelps looked at me, bewildered. "Honey, that hotel costs over $10,000 a night. I'd never go there. It's probably a system error. Someone must have mistyped the card number. I'll file a complaint tomorrow." Unconvinced, I called my best friend, who managed the hotel. "Tracy, check who Nathan was with at the hotel last night. I'm catching him red-handed."

Two best friends have their life upside down after a drastic event took place in one's life. They sure separated, but she loved him. Love. It was more than just a best-friend feeling. Things changed, people changed, everything changed. But her love was still the same. Can she ever gather the courage to tell him? Will he ever accept her?

My wife's gym is celebrating its grand opening, and I drag my buddy along to check the place out with a 9.90-dollar trial class I bought through an e-commerce platform. For the entire time, I never once let it slip that I'm the owner. Right after we finish training, a male coach tosses a price sheet at us. His eyes sweep over us with contempt as he says, "You two look like freeloaders. Our private sessions cost a few hundred each, and we don't offer freebies to people like you." I let out a disbelieving laugh. "We paid for this trial class. How is that freeloading? Go get your manager." He rolls his eyes and makes it seem like he's enforcing a very important rule. "Don't bother looking for the manager. My girlfriend owns this place, and she hates broke losers who try to get free classes." He dials her number right in front of us. His voice sounds both arrogant and pitiful. "Babe, two guys showed up and tried to con us into giving them a free class. They even told me to call the manager. Come over here and show them what's what!"

At the New Year's party, my pineapple juice is swapped for beer. To make things worse, I've just taken cephalexin, which shouldn't be mixed with alcohol. After barely surviving the ordeal, I am shocked to see my husband, Harry Grant, defending Sally Lane, who was responsible for the mix-up. "Can we please just let it go? She didn't do it on purpose," Harry pleads. However, I'm not about to forgive Sally, especially given how sketchy her relationship with my husband has always been. But Harry cuts me off with a scowl, "Enough! She's just graduated and doesn't know any better. "What's the point of holding a grudge? Do you really want to ruin her life to feel better?" he asks, clearly trying to protect her. As I watch him stand by her, my heart sinks. "Fine then, go live with her."

Her name is Samarra Miel O' Harra, but she is better known as "Ms. Oh" in car racing. She is the queen of drag racing and the only princess of the O 'Harra clan. She could say she had it all at eighteen, fame, a wealthy family, and, hopefully, love. LOVE? She is unable to choose whom she can love. Since she was born, her parents had arranged her marriage to the son of her mother's best friend. Ezekiel was the eldest son of Buenavista and the man she secretly loved when she was eighteen. The man who saved her life. The man who understands her feelings and is her partner in everything. Zachary Buenavista is Ezekiel's younger brother and the man who will marry Samarra. The man who would teach Samarra the most important lesson about love. Kanino niya sasabihin "I love you till the end, Mr. Buenavista?”

My mother-in-law, Kylie McGowan, told me that she wanted to experience the life of the younger crowd, so I took her to my husband Jerome Callen's newly opened upscale bar for a quiet drink. I had just ordered her a signature cocktail when a woman from the booth across the aisle sauntered over, wine glass in hand. Her eyes flicked over the menu on our table, and she laughed mockingly. "Seriously? You ordered the cheapest drink on the menu? Did you bring this old lady here just to enjoy the free AC? People like you should stay in the gutter. This place isn't meant for penniless people!" I rose to my feet, holding back my temper. "We're paying for our drinks here. What does our drink choice have to do with you?" But she suddenly snapped, grabbed a half-finished beer bottle off a nearby table, and swung it at my head. "My husband's the owner of this bar! I could smash your skull in and still afford the damages! Get out, you pauper! Don't be an eyesore here!" I wiped the liquor off my face as my entire body shook with anger. Then I turned away, started my livestream, and spoke directly to my followers. "Look here, everyone! I'm going live to catch a cheater. Let's go explore my husband's other home."