Mushoku Tensei Aisha And Ars

On my way to a meeting at work, I call my daughter, who is at home. Instead, I hear a voice identical to mine over the phone. She claims that she is me three years in the future. "Dezarae, go home to Liv right now. Your daughter is in danger." I am stunned. I argue in disbelief and question who is behind this prank. When I step on the accelerator, she stops me sternly. "Do not drive ahead any further. There will be a traffic accident at the intersection where Peace Street is." In the next second, at the intersection that is less than 30 feet away from me, two cars collide. Cold sweat starts to trickle down my back when the woman with a voice identical to mine says, "Liv will fall off a building and die in three hours. This is your only chance to save her."

Have you ever been inlove with your best friend and never found the courage to say the word and voice out what's stuffing you in your chest? this is a love story of a girl name Zoe Marcus a nineteen years of girl who found herself loving her childhood best friend Arabella Anderson but was unable to say the one word that will make her accept her love. She watch her date Rowan, a guy they grew up with. no matter how much she wanted to confess her feelings, she couldn't not after seeing how happy Arabella wad with him. But it so much happened that Rowan never loved Arabella, but Zoe. Will Arabella accept Zoe after finding out about her true feeling for her? What will happen when Rowan becomes so obsessed over Zoe and will be willing to do anything to get her? read to find out.

I had just gotten hospitalization prior to my operation when my wife told me she was going on an urgent business trip, leaving me and our one-year-old daughter behind. Two days later, her childhood sweetheart proudly posted a family photo on social media with a caption that said: “Took a picture of our happy family of three on our trip!” I looked at my wife who was smiling tenderly in the picture and commented, “?” My wife immediately called and berated me, “He's a single father who doesn’t have a wife to help take care of his child! All I did was take a picture with them, what are you being so defensive about?” That same evening, her childhood sweetheart posted a picture of a million-dollar dowry given to him with the caption: “After we took the picture, she insisted on giving me this as a dowry.” I knew my wife gave it to him to appease him. But this time, I was going to leave her for good.

My new patient, Lydia Baldwin, has called the police 99 times. Her voice trembles with fear as she says, "My son has a mole on his neck, but the one now doesn't! My husband used to throw up at the smell of cilantro. But now, he eats it every day and even enjoys it! "They are impostors! Why won't the police arrest them?" I am deeply shocked. Because just half an hour earlier, I met her son. He had dark circles under his eyes as he handed me Lydia's medical records. "My mom has Alzheimer's disease. She doesn't just forget things now. She talks nonsense too. Please, you have to help her come to her senses." But I specialize in treating Alzheimer's. Lydia's memory is sharp. Her logic is clear and well-supported. She isn't sick at all.

My name's Skylar Sothisby. I became the heiress to an internationally renowned fine and decorative art auction house after my brother, Dean, died in a car crash. Like any head of an elite family, my father wanted a successor for our empire. He selected three exceptionally handsome and talented young men and groomed them into business geniuses in their own right, so that one day I could choose one of them as my husband. Of the three, Corbin Ford was his favorite. I tried to grow close to him as well, but he always kept a certain distance. I began to wonder if he was either celibate or inclined the other way, until one day I overheard him speaking to Irina, my late brother's widow, in the courtyard. "You know why I agreed to marry Skylar, don't you, Irina? So I can see you every day." He continued, "Once I become the head of the family business, I'll give you anything and everything you want, sweetie." Before a company soirée, my father summoned me to his study. He asked whether I had decided whom to marry. I smiled. "I choose Cyrus Brennan." He stared at me in shock. "Cyrus? But he's effectively vasectomized after that plane accident two years ago. He can't have children."

I decide to propose to Rebecca Milton, now that we've been in a relationship for five years. But I end up overhearing her conversation with her childhood friend, Tobias Wright, outside a private room in the clubhouse. "Seriously, Rebecca? Are you still hooked on the idea of pretending to be a poor student? All this just so you can win a bet of wooing Sebastian Grant, the business genius, and making him yours? "The Grants are on the verge of filing for bankruptcy. Heck, Sebastian has also cut ties with his family just so he can be with you. Don't tell me you seriously plan on marrying him!" Every cell in my body freezes upon hearing Tobias' words. Then, I hear Rebecca responding to him flippantly. "Marry him? As if! All I have to do is wait for him to propose to me, then I can expose the truth of the bet to him on the spot! Oh, the expression he's wearing must be amazing!" Tobias chuckles lightly in return. "You are in a five-year relationship with Sebastian at the end of the day. Are you sure you don't have feelings for him?" Rebecca scoffs back. "I was just playing with him, you know? Whoever puts their heart on the line loses this game." Then, she gazes at Tobias tenderly. "Don't you know very well who I'm truly in love with?" It turns out that the girlfriend I'm head over heels for, as well as the relationship that I view as my prized treasure, is nothing but the product of a bet. I call my parents on the spot. "I will go along with the marriage alliance."

In the third year after my death, my mother finally remembered me. But it wasn't out of longing—it was because my younger sister's leukemia had relapsed, and she urgently needed a bone marrow transplant. Clutching a donation agreement, my mother made her way to the basement I once lived in. She kicked open the door and was met with a floor slick with blood and scattered medicine bottles. "Cassidy, what game are you playing this time? Do you really think a self-inflicted act of suffering could fool me? Why are you so selfish? Why won't you save your own sister?" Her voice roared with anger, echoing through the space. From the crowd that had gathered to watch, a ragged little boy stepped forward. "Are you talking about Cassidy Porter? She… she died three years ago of organ failure… she vomited so much blood…"

When Zara discovers her abusive fiancé cheating with her best friend,she flees to a bar where a mysterious stranger offers her refuge. One night with Josh changes everything—but their whirlwind romance built on passion and pregnancy hides a devastating secret. As Josh’s fake feelings turn achingly real and Roberts vendetta turns deadly, Zara must navigate a web of family betrayal,supernatural mysteries and her own shattered trust . But when love transcends the boundaries between life and death, Zara discovers that sometimes you must lose everything to find who you really are.

While I was bleeding heavily from my miscarriage, the hospital needed a family member to sign some documents urgently. The nurse frantically called my husband on my phone. After more than ten rejected calls, he finally answered, his voice a frustrated yell, "I'm busy! Don't bother me with these little things!" When we tried calling again, I realized he had blocked my number. Despite the pain, I forced myself to sit up and sign the papers. Tragically, our baby couldn't be saved. Later, I saw a viral video of my husband kissing his childhood sweetheart under fireworks. "It was just a silly joke," she said, "but he surprised me by lighting up the whole city with fireworks as a present!" Seeing their matching wedding rings, I wordlessly slipped off the simple ring I'd worn for five years and threw it in the bin. After coming so close to death, he was now insignificant to me.

To take care of my mother after she fell and injured herself, I turned down a promotion and took a week off work to stay by her side. On the day she was discharged from the hospital, she smiled and handed me a small envelope. “Suzy, you’ve worked hard these past few days. This is just a little something from me. Go treat yourself to something good.” I wiped my hands, a quiet warmth spreading through my chest. When I opened the envelope, I froze for a moment. Inside was $2. Still, I told myself it didn’t matter. The amount wasn’t important. What mattered was the thought behind it. But the very next day, while scrolling through social media, I came across a post from my younger brother, the one who hadn’t shown his face at the hospital even once. Nine photos filled the post, all of them showing off a sprawling luxury mansion. In the center was a photo of the purchase contract. The caption read: “Officially the owner of a $2 million riverfront house. Big thanks to Mom for the support!”