Novel & Cerita Purple Phone

Thanks to an accident, I'm somehow able to get on a phone call with the past version of me from seven years ago. Upon hearing that I will be getting engaged to Edward Herring soon, Younger Me is so excited that she keeps rolling around in bed. She also claims that she will be the happiest woman in the world seven years later. Am I happy, though? I can only smile bitterly without saying anything. Then, I silently show Younger Me the old scars of the suffering and pain I've gone through in the past. The gentle Edward is no longer here. Now, the Edward I'm with is the type who allows others to call me a manipulative bitch repeatedly and demands that I grovel to his first love, Madison Scott, and her family in a form of apology before our engagement. "So, do you still want a future like this?" The sparkle in Younger Me's eyes fades away instantly. After that, my past has been rewritten. Let's never see each other from the start, Edward Herring.

They had been married for three years, yet he treated her like dirt while he gave Lilith all of his love. He neglected and mistreated her, and their marriage was like a cage. Zoe bore with all of it because she loved Mason deeply! That was, until that night. It was a downpour and he abandoned his pregnant wife to spend time with Lilith. Zoe, on the other hand, had to crawl her way to the phone to contact an ambulance while blood was flowing down her feet. She realized it at last. You can’t force someone to love you. Zoe drafted a divorce agreement and left quietly. … Two years later, Zoe was back with a bang. Countless men wanted to win her heart. Her scummy ex-husband said, “I didn’t sign the agreement, Zoe! I’m not going to let you be with another man!” Zoe smiled nonchalantly, “It’s over between us, Mason!” His eyes reddened when he recited their wedding vows with a trembling voice, “Mason and Zoe will be together forever, in sickness or health. I refuse to divorce!”

In the two years after Bradley Vaughn's so-called "memory loss," we divorced seven times—all to keep his childhood crush Vivian Monroe happy. Number eight? Because Vivian got pregnant. "You can't have kids anyway. Once Vivian has the baby, we'll get back together. You can raise the kid." That was his usual ice-cold line as he slid the papers across the table. That night, he kicked me out—said Vivian got nauseous just seeing me. I moved into another house. Alone. In the rain. Even after I landed in the ER from a near assault, he didn't bother asking if I was okay. Then one day, I spotted him at a clinic with Vivian. He rubbed her belly and laughed, "So what if she finds out I faked the amnesia? She can't live without me. Toss her a bone, she'll come crawling." I looked away, steady. Then my phone buzzed. [How did your checkup go?]

On Christmas, the company handed out bonus envelopes, and I drew a 24-hour overtime voucher. Meanwhile, the boss took the female workers and my wife to a yacht party to celebrate. So, I calmly lit the Christmas tree and burned the company down. In my previous life, I worked overtime until I was completely exhausted. With a sharp pain in my chest, I called the boss to ask for leave. His tone was cold. “Everyone accepted their Christmas gift. Only you didn’t. “Get lost, then. You’re fired. Just a nobody at the bottom of society, anyway!” Through the phone, I heard my wife’s heavy breathing, one wave after another. “Thomas, ever since I got married, I’ve never had a good life. Today is truly amazing!” “Hahaha, Samantha, you’re really pitiful, married to such a poor loser.” Mocking laughter filled my ears. Rage consumed me, and I died at my desk. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on Christmas Day.

"Quinn, I accidentally hit someone when I was driving earlier. I think… I think it was your son!" The day after my friend, Owen Jolin, gets his driving license, he insists on driving to the kindergarten to pick up his son by himself. I advise him to spend a few more days practicing his driving skills, seeing as that road is always packed with trucks. But he just rolls his eyes at me. "Don't worry about me. I'm super good at driving, you know!" After that, he stomps on the gas pedal and speeds away in his car. But a short while later, he calls me on the phone, and he sounds extremely frightened. He tells me that he has hit someone outside the kindergarten. He said the child is completely drenched in blood, and he somehow looks like my son, Elliot Shelby. I'm stunned, to say the least. Elliot has come down with a fever today, so he's skipped school for the day. Then… who on earth did Owen kill?

After helping the company secure a project worth 30 million dollars, the HR department suddenly tells me that I'm fired, and I will not be receiving any of my bonuses this year. Confused, I look for my boss, Jett Leroy, to ask him about it. However, he points his finger in my face and yells at me, "If it weren't for you being a stupid Scorpio, being the most toxic match for me and affecting the company's luck, we wouldn't have had a 30% drop in net profits this year! "I'm already generous enough by not making you compensate for all the losses you caused me! How dare you still ask me for more money? Get lost if you know what's best for you!" I smile when I read the text message notification on my phone and hurriedly sign the release documents. Jett is right. My horoscope and his definitely don't get along well. After all, I will be coming for his ass just a short while later!

Just as Justin proposed to me, a phone call interrupted him. Standing close by, I clearly heard the voice on the other end of the line. “Justin, I’m hurt. My leg hurts so much!” Justin snapped the ring box shut and looked at me. “Alice is injured. I’ll have to do this another time.” With those words, he sprinted away, leaving everyone around us staring in astonishment. I had never met Alice, but her presence lingered in every corner of our lives.  At meals, Justin would mention her fondness for sweet desserts.  When I dressed, I came to know her love for soft lavender hues. I argued, I wept, I lashed out, but Justin always countered with the same line. “You’re so jealous. Everyone has their first love. She’s my past, but you’re my future.” So, I turned to a man who had once called me his first love—Quentin—and made a bold proposition. “Let’s get married.”

My husband had just ducked into the bathroom when his phone started ringing. I glanced at the screen and saw it was his brother calling. A frown creased my brow, but I answered anyway. "George, why haven't you sent the $10,000 to Mom and Dad this month?" Ross Serrano said. "Mom just asked me about it." I hung up without a word, but a rush of fury surged through me. My husband stood at the bathroom door, his hands still dripping wet. I forced a bitter smile. "You make $8,000 a month, right? $3,000 goes to the mortgage, $2,000 to me, and you pocket $1,000 for yourself. You told me you sent $2,000 to your parents, so how did that magically turn into $10,000?" His lips quivered, his face draining of color. My heart sank, and my hands trembled uncontrollably. We'd been married for five years, and I'd never once laid eyes on his bank card. What other secrets was he keeping from me?

"Little wolf, I'm sorry, but there is pack business to be dealt with." Raven's phone interrupts our fifth anniversary dinner. As his mate and Luna of the Silver Moon Pack, I have grown accustomed to such disappointments. But when I discover his "pack business" was to comfort his dead Beta's widow—his former flame Astrid—my perfect world begins to crumble. *** Sylvia thought she had everything: a powerful position as Luna, a responsible and loving Alpha mate, with only her inability to conceive casting a shadow over their happiness. But Astrid's calculated manipulations shatter these illusions one by one, pushing Sylvia toward an abyss she never saw coming. The man she thought loved her unconditionally repeatedly chooses another, and even her fertility struggles seem to hide darker secrets. "You're still my Luna," Raven whispers, his touch both familiar and foreign. "Nothing has changed." "Everything has changed," Sylvia responds, her voice breaking. "You chose her over me, again and again."

I had been in a relationship with Zachary Dawson for seven years and engaged for three when, out of the blue, Ruby White, the daughter of his mentor, moved into our home. Sitting casually on the bed that Zachary and I shared, Ruby lounged with an air of nonchalance, her voice playful and teasing. "Zachary, the dental god, sure has a nice bed," she remarked with a smirk. "I can only imagine what it would be like to spend the night with him in this bed." I captured the scene on my phone and sent the video to our family group chat with a brief message: Looks like Zachary might have a new girlfriend Zachary rushed home, wrapping his arms protectively around a tearful Ruby. He pointed at me, his voice seething with anger. "My mentor's dying wish was for me to take care of Ruby! If you can't accept that, then move out!" Honestly, my brows furrowed deeper than the wrinkles on the bedsheets Ruby had sat on. Fine. I didn't need the bed, and I didn't need a fiancé anymore.