Quotes About Cheating In Exams

In the second year of our marriage, which Brett Mason had secured through relentless means, he brought home his latest conquest—a stunning blonde. As the door swung shut, he ran his fingers through her silky hair, flashing me a smug, triumphant grin. "Wanna join us? You might learn a thing or two about not being such a dead fish." I could still recall how he once adored my hair, claiming that just stroking it would melt away his deepest worries. It turned out any woman could serve that purpose. In that instant, a profound sense of release washed over me. I retrieved the divorce agreement I'd stashed away in a drawer and handed it to him. "Sign it, and I'll make room for her." My days were numbered, and I had no intention of wasting what little time remained entangled in his resentment.

"Sweetie, are you coming? I'll wait for you at our usual spot." Henry Lane is about to go to bed when he receives a voice message. It's spoken in Rushky. He turns his back to me as his face lights up in joy. Then, he answers in Rushky, "Of course. I love you." I'm about to fall asleep, but I jolt when I hear that. The sweet voice on the other end of the line rings out again. "Your wife won't find out about this, will she?" "I'm talking to you to her face now." Henry snorts. "We're speaking in Rushky; she can't understand us." My heart twists painfully. It turns out he's never loved or truly understood me. He thinks I'm just a housewife whose world revolves around him; he has no idea I once studied in Rushnia for two years as an exchange student. I suppress my sorrow and heartbreak as I caress my belly. Then, I make an appointment with a local hospital for an abortion.

An older woman had wormed her way into my husband's life. A new hire in the company, she catered to his every need, from preparing his meals to washing his personal items. I had warned him repeatedly about the inappropriate nature of their relationship, but he dismissed my concerns. "Claudia's son is in college," Bryce had scoffed. "What could I possibly want with her?" Fine. I had a plan. I served him divorce papers and began showering attention on a young college student. His reaction was explosive. In response, I threw him a puzzled look. "Leon's father is about your age. What could I possibly want with him?"

After my rebirth, the very first thing I did was ride from one blood donation van to another, giving blood until I nearly collapsed. Why? Because in my previous life, my fiancé's newly hired intern, Shirley Lynch, had bound herself to a blood-exchange system. Every milliliter she donated was siphoned directly from my own veins. In just a month, she transformed from an ordinary college girl into the nation's beloved Blood Angel, showered with fame and fortune, while I, suffering from severe anemia, was fired from the hospital for being unable to work. When I exposed her scheme to my fiancé, he looked at me with disgust and broke off our engagement. "You're selfish and cowardly," he sneered. "You refuse to donate your rare blood type, and now you slander Shirley? You call yourself a doctor, yet you believe in such ridiculous nonsense!" From then on, every time Shirley donated blood, I would suffer heart palpitations, dizziness, and sometimes collapse outright. I begged the doctors in my department for help, but my fiancé blocked every attempt, accusing me of jealousy and wasting medical resources. In the end, to steal my promotion ahead of schedule, Shirley donated a full 1000 milliliters of blood live on television. As her blood drained, so did mine. I went into shock and died. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day Shirley first claimed she carried my rare blood type.

My mentally impaired brother married a young, beautiful woman. She was a college graduate, kind and sensible. In just three years, she already had three kids.  My dad couldn’t stop smiling, always boasting to everyone about what a great daughter-in-law he had. However, I knew the truth. Every night, she would quietly sneak into my bed.

I spend a decade as the woman behind Corey Larson. I help him save his company from the brink of bankruptcy and turn it into a public-listed company. He's on the cusp of success, and I'm about to propose to him. That's when he brings his childhood sweetheart into the picture to take my place. He thanks me for my decade of hard work. Then, he tells me I'm no longer a good fit for the company as it's about to embark on a new journey. I stare at him. I've loved him for ten years and given him my everything, but he brushes me off with a bank card. My blood turns to ice. The decade I've spent with him has ultimately gone down the drain. He doesn't seem to realize the consequences, though. Once I quit and leave, his company will cease to exist… just like my love for him.

When the earthquake struck, Pierse Jones instinctively shielded me with his body, taking the full brunt of the impact and suffering multiple fractures. In the hospital room, the girl in the next bed looked at me with envy and said, “Your husband didn’t even care about his own life to save you. He really loves you.” I forced a smile. “Yeah.” But just last night, after I had fallen asleep, he slipped into the bathroom, his voice soft and soothing as he spoke to someone else—his little mistress, “I’m fine, don’t cry. Be good.” “As long as I think of you, I’m not afraid of anything.” Pierse and I grew up together, from childhood sweethearts to each other’s first love. We had been together for ten years, admired by everyone as the perfect couple. No one knew he had a mistress on the side, a girl who looked just like me when I was eighteen.

When the kidnapper fired the gun, I shielded Scott with my body. The bullet pierced my heart, and I was sent overseas to have my heart exchanged with an artificial one—one that ran on a battery. Because of this heart, Scott married me, and my friends congratulated me for finally having my wish granted, for finally marrying my childhood sweetheart. Later, when I laid there on the operating table with my chest cut open, he was kissing another woman under the moonlight. I didn't react to this in the slightest, recovering my heart in silence. Scott resented my numbness, grabbing my shoulders as he demanded, "Wendy, aren't you angry about this?" He didn't know the reason, and to be honest, it was quite simple. Why be angry when my heart was on the verge of giving out? Every passionate day he spent chasing after love… Was another tick in the countdown to the end of my life.

Alice Long and I were caught in the crossfire. When my boyfriend—a combat medic responsible for saving the wounded—came to our rescue, he pushed me aside. Gently cradling Alice, the girl I had shielded, he shot me a cold glance and said, "Crystal, I'm deeply disappointed in you. She needs immediate care to avoid infection!" What about me? Was I meant to die instead? When my flag-draped coffin arrived home, he had the nerve to weep openly at my memorial. This once-renowned combat medic, celebrated around the globe, never set foot outside his room again.

The night before the entrance exams, my childhood best friend, Tyson Sutherland, receives a text message from his girlfriend, Isabelle Landon, saying she was attempting suicide by jumping off a building. He immediately gets anxious and brings along a few male classmates with him to go and save her. In my past life, I learned that it was fake, and that Isabelle never planned to kill herself. That was why I was against them going to save her. I called up my teacher, Mr. Fred Nielson, and asked him to inform the boys' parents, successfully stopping them from going. … The next day, everyone sat for their entrance exams as usual, and we all got accepted into Rayward University, one of the most prestigious universities in the country. Meanwhile, Isabelle survived the jump somehow, but she became a cripple. As revenge, Tyson hacked off my arms and legs and buried me alive. "It's all your fault! You were the one who turned Belle into a cripple! I'm going to kill you!" All my classmates did nothing as they watched him kill me under their watchful eyes. They all told me that I deserved to be killed. … When I open my eyes again, I realize that I have returned to the night when Tyson tells me he wants to save Isabella. I don't stop him or the others from going anymore. Instead, I sit for the entrance exams alone. I refuse to interfere in other people's fates again.