Out Of Time Movie Plot Novels & Stories

"I never thought that the bartender I met on the island would turn out to be my boss!" Gabbriel Lane Tolentino was forced to take a leave after his boss ordered him to find his lustful soul. That’s how it goes when you’re a photographer for a men’s magazine—you have to explore. But Gabby ended up exploring something else during this vacation. This is the story that will make you fall in love, laugh, and cry. Originally from Wattpad with five million reads, now available on GoodNovel!

After my grandpa receives a critical notice regarding his illness, he takes my boyfriend, Layne Harper, by the hand and pleads with him. "Layne, please marry Aleah while I'm still alive this month. I want to see her live happily ever after." Everyone sheds tears in the hospital room, thinking that Layne will heed Grandpa's words right away by getting down on one knee and proposing to me. After all, I have been waiting for him for the past ten years. With tears brimming in my eyes, I wait for Layne's response eagerly. But he covers the speaker of his phone out of worry that he might awaken his childhood friend, Ruby Martin, whom he has spent the last five hours coaxing to sleep. Finally, Layne replies gently, "Don't worry, Grandpa. I will give Aleah the happiness she deserves. Even if we don't get married in the end, I'll stick with my promise." My relatives stop cheering Layne on immediately. Then, they turn to look at me sympathetically. But I just smile and go with the flow. "I'll still be happy even if I don't marry Layne, Grandpa." After all, in two hours, I will accept another man's marriage proposal.

On the day my CEO boyfriend, Benjamin West, and I go register our marriage, his manipulative female assistant, Chelsea Miller, suddenly hands over her ID first. Just like that, the marriage certificate that is supposed to belong to me and Benjamin becomes one hers and his instead. Taken aback, I anxiously ask what is going on. But Chelsea suddenly drops to her knees dramatically and cries in despair, "Giselle, this is all my fault! My child needs a local address to enroll in school. If it hadn't been for that, I would never have resorted to a fake marriage with Benjamin." She even sobs inconsolably and threatens to smash her head against the wall so as to make it up to me with her death. Benjamin is usually clear-headed and can easily distinguish right from wrong. But this time, not only does he not defend me, but he even slaps me in public! He fumes, "Chelsea is a single mother. She's only doing this for her child. Do you really have to be so petty? It's just a marriage certificate. Once her child gets into school, I will divorce her. Can't we register our marriage a little later? Is it necessary to back her into a corner?" "Hurry up and apologize to Chelsea. Then, give half of your salary to her as compensation. If you cooperate, I can lend you the marriage certificate for Chelsea and me so you can take some photos and show off in the family group chat. Otherwise, forget about marrying me." I laugh humorlessly. "Then let's not register our marriage at all." Not only do I no longer want the marriage certificate, but I also don't want him anymore.

After being chased from her home by her parents for keeping a pregnancy, Michelle moves in with her boyfriend who is responsible for the pregnancy. They both struggle to make ends meet but things take a different turn when Michelle finds out that her boyfriend has signed her up on a lady-renting app and forces her to believe it's the only way they can improve the living condition of their twin daughters. Michelle crosses paths with a handful of billionaires, all of whom just want to get her on their beds. She ends the job and her boyfriend threatens to leave with their daughters if she doesn't continue the job. Distraught and frustrated, Michelle nearly gives up until she meets Christopher Croydon, sole heir to the fortune of wealthy family. Christopher proves to be different from the previous billionaires and isn't interested in bedding her. Is it all just pretense? Or is this her one shot at true love?

When I hear my boyfriend, Terence Bowen, is trapped in a house fire, I immediately rush back to save him. However, after dragging him out with all my strength, I realize it's just a dummy. Laughter erupts from the house next door. "Ariana Brock is such a fool! She fell for it again!" Through a half-open window, I spot Terence lounging on the couch, casually scrolling through his phone. He looks completely fine. "That's the 47th prank we've pulled on her. Three more to go and we're done." "Serves her right. She shouldn't have stolen Bethany Howard's scholarship. Bethany is the one Terence actually cares about. That's why he decided to fake a relationship with Ariana to get revenge 50 times over. Too bad the game will end soon." I bend over, gasping for air. All this time, the relationship I've worked so hard to protect is nothing but a game to them.

Eliza Ward does not fall through time. Time bends toward her. Pulled from the present into Revolutionary America, Eliza becomes trapped in a landscape where history repeats unevenly, battles restart with variations, and memory functions as both anchor and weapon. She is not a chosen heroine, but a constant: a woman whose awareness destabilizes the moment itself. She meets Mercy Hale, a midwife and witch who understands time as a negotiation rather than a force to command. Mercy aids Eliza’s survival while refusing the role of savior, having already learned the cost of standing too close to history’s center. During a looping battle, Eliza saves Thomas Reed, a Continental soldier who does not shift when time does. Thomas is an anchor: steady, observant, unchanged across iterations. Their bond deepens in an almost-normal village where time briefly behaves. Eliza’s intervention triggers time’s response. Rather than immediate destruction, time collects interest. Mercy bargains to spare Eliza and Thomas, sacrificing her own future to stabilize the present. Time extracts payment from Eliza as well, stripping away her voice, the very tool she uses to name and hold moments in place. Silenced and unmoored, Eliza is violently displaced back into the original battle. Unable to anchor the moment, she watches Thomas die in the version of history that was always waiting beneath her defiance. Told in rotating perspectives between Eliza, Thomas, and Mercy, The Hours That Refused to Behave is a lyrical time-travel novel about revolution, restraint, and consequence, asking not whether history can be changed, but who pays when it is.

There's a month to Angela Thompson's wedding, but she's no longer sure whether to proceed with it. The reason for her doubts? Her fiancé, Carl Swain, wants to have a child with his good friend's widow, Lucy Hogg. Carl says, "Keith was my best friend. He died so suddenly, leaving Lucy alone in this world. She tried to take her life a few times, you know. Maybe having a child will help her get past this." Angela can't understand it. She says, "Lucy can adopt or marry someone else if she wants a child. She can even go to a sperm bank abroad if she wants! Why do you have to be the one to have the child with her?"

A soul lost in time. A suspended love story filled with yearning and longing. Such is the tale of The lord of the Underworld and his only Beloved. There is a myth about a town every 100 years on Halloween night; demons from the very pits of hell come up to the earth and roam the streets, blending into the disguised populous searching for the perfect bride for their Prince—the Prince of Darkness himself. Although believed to be merely a myth, this tale, though not entirely true, hold some truth. Will the Prince eventually find what he seeks? Will his thirst be quenched and his search over? One can only be that truth within the pages of this unfolding tale.

After eight years together, I've proposed to my boyfriend 108 times. Each time, he found a different excuse to turn me down. On the 109th try, I give up a promotion and transfer opportunity. Finally, he said yes. I think he's moved by my sincerity. But instead, he brings his first love into our marital home and falls into our bed with her. "I only proposed to her to spite you. If you just say the word, I'll dump her at the altar and marry you instead!" Staring at the scene before me, I take the tight engagement ring off my finger and toss it down the drain. I decide to call off the wedding before he can. But after I walk away, the man who swore he'd marry someone else went crazy searching for me everywhere.

I was the person Henry Johnson, the head of the San Nello mafia, loved more than anyone else. He loved me with absolute devotion. During our three years of marriage, he spoiled me endlessly and treated me like a princess. Yet this same man, who claimed to love me so deeply, divorced me three times, each time for the sake of his childhood sweetheart. The first time, intimate photos of them at the airport went viral. That very night, he placed the divorce papers in front of me. "Selena," he said, "Melanie's father once saved my life. I can't allow her to be condemned as a homewrecker. Let's divorce for now. Once this storm passes, we'll remarry." With my heart in pieces, I signed the papers and prepared to leave. However, at the airport, Henry stopped me. He broke down in front of me and begged, "I've already taken care of the media. Melanie has gone abroad again. I've repaid everything I owed her family. Please don't leave. Let's get married again." His tearful pleas softened my resolve. That was the first time I forgave him. The second time, he came to me looking utterly worn out. "Melanie was implicated by her boyfriend and ended up in prison," he said. "I need to bail her out as her spouse. Once she's free, we'll remarry right away." I believed him. That time, he kept his promise. He returned and remarried me. The third time, he lowered his head and hesitated, unable to look me in the eye. "Melanie is about to give birth," he said. "An unwed pregnancy would destroy her modeling career. I have to help her. This will be the last time. Once the child is settled, we'll remarry. I promise this will never happen again." I looked at him for a long time. In the end, I answered softly, "Okay." However, on the day we were meant to register our marriage again, I never appeared. Any love I still had was worn away bit by bit. In the end, I left for good, taking with me not only a broken heart, but also the unborn heir he would never know.