Quotes About Crying

Our daughter, Luna Woods, developed a high fever. Her body was burning hot. I immediately dialed 911 for help. The dispatcher on the other end kept repeating his questions. He spoke slowly, as if deliberately stalling for time. By the time I finally heard the ambulance siren, Luna was already turning cold in my arms. In less than a year, my wife and I separated. We were consumed by endless grief and blamed for each other. Afterward, I merely existed for the sake of it. I was a hollow shell of a man. Then, one day, I received a wedding invitation from my ex-wife. The moment I played the audio invitation, a chill ran down my spine. The groom’s voice was identical to that of the slow, dawdling dispatcher from that year! I rushed out, utterly distraught, only to be hit by a roaring train. When I opened my eyes again, I heard Luna crying in the next room. Her forehead was burning hot. My wife hurriedly handed me the phone. “Quick, call 911! I’ll get a wet towel.” My hands trembled as I took the phone. When it was answered, I heard a familiar male voice through the receiver. “911, what’s your emergency?”

Ember had always been a cheerful and wild girl. She had cliff-dived off Amalfi’s highest rocks, raced stolen sports cars through neon Hong Kong nights,danced until dawn in Berlin's rooftop clubs, and changed boyfriends as easily as changing outfits. If there was a wild thing to do, she had done it. Yet, an arranged marriage tethered her to Alpha Ryker hale the living textbook of rigidity and order. Ember had tried to make him love her, tried to break his cold face, tried to get even the tiniest of emotion on his cold face all to a dead end. But an unexpected discovery broke her. Her husband childhood sweetheart is back! And just like that Ember saw his emotionless husband going crazy just for her. She saw him giving all his emotions and love to her. Ember suddenly realised, it wasn't that he was emotionless but he just didn't love her. And a plot twist? He married her just to protect his lover. But just when she gave up on him and divorced him. He crawled back on his knees crying “Ember am sorry, please take me back.“ But Ember valen had always be one to pay eye for an eye. Will she accept him back? Find out in this fantastic story.

My daughter accidentally scratched my husband's young mistress's face with her nails. For that, my husband had her fingers chopped off. Covered in blood, she came home seeking help, only to be assaulted by an intruder. I called my husband, crying, but his mistress's sweet voice answered the phone. "Stop using these lowly tricks to get Jack's attention. All you're doing is making him sick!" I begged my husband to take my call, but all I got in return was a barrage of insults. "Nothing is more important than Yvonne's face! I'm busy taking her to the hospital! I don't have time for your drama!" Later, my daughter's organs were removed by the intruder. Even in death, she was still tightly holding onto the birthday gift she had prepared for her father. My husband, a top lawyer, personally defended the criminal who assaulted our daughter. He let that man walk away scot-free after what he had done. On the day he celebrated his birthday with all our relatives, he finally knew that our daughter had died. He completely lost his mind.

"You’re too beautiful to be crying over a boy," his voice was low, velvety, and dangerously close. It was supposed to be the best night of her life, her 20th birthday, the night she’d planned to finally give herself to the boy she thought she loved. But when her boyfriend didn’t show, the one man she shouldn't want, the man she called Dad, was there to pick up the pieces. "You're drunk," she whispered, her breath hitching as his hand brushed her cheek. "And you're irresistible." What started as an innocent ride home turned into something sinful, something forbidden. Alone in the dark confines of the car, her fantasies came alive with the man she could never have, a man who had no business looking at her that way. By the time they were back at the house, the line between right and wrong had blurred, leaving only raw desire. And when their secret night was interrupted by a knock at the door and the return of her absentee mother, the stakes soared. She wanted to stop, but he was intoxicating, addictive. Would their fiery affair destroy everything or would it ignite a love so dangerous they’d risk it all? "Tell me to stop," he whispered, his lips hovering over hers. But she didn’t. And it changed everything.

A lethal neurotoxin had taken hold of my lungs. My time is running out. My mother, Sofia, was the most connected lawyer in Palermo, excelling in burying crimes and twisting the law. When my brother Vincent mowed me down and shattered my leg, she called in every favor to clear his record. My father, Tommaso, the most feared private doctor in Sicily, faked my medical files, branding me unstable and delusional, all to mold me into the obedient son they needed. Then there was Lina, only daughter of Don Vitali, my wife. She said, “We let him out for Vincent’s liver. What if he says no?” Dad’s voice went cold. “He has two choices: lie quietly on that operating table… or waste away in the sanatorium for what’s left of his life.” I pushed the parlor door open, steady and slow. My voice was flat. “I’ll do it.” Every one of them let out a breath they’d been holding, showering me with hollow words. They didn’t know there was no life left to threaten. I had twenty-four hours. By sunrise, I would be dead either way. Funny… now that I’m in the ground, why are they all crying?

No, please do not do this, please leave us in peace. She cries out her helplessness. Why are you behind us? Please leave him, please. I plead you. She finally joined her hands in front this heartless monster, who not deserve her plead but she is helpless here to do that as she can’t see her love getting beaten by this monster and she can’t do anything other than pleading him. He has her caged in his arms and his men beating her life there. Yes her life, her love and she was crying continuously in his arms to see her love in this condition because of her. He was holding her close to him, as he will not let anyone touch his sweetheart. Nor he would give pain or bruises on soft hands of her by tying her to something. Which are only to love him but she did not and she does not love him, Love can't be caged, can it? still she was caged by his Love. It was forceful, yet innocent.. It was painful yet it was only to heal her.. She was in the cage of his Love, longing for her freedom. While denying her the only thing that makes her free. She was caged by the Billionaire. "If I can't have you Darling, No one can have, what is belongs to me!"

⚠️ WARNING: 18+ This story contains mature themes, strong language, emotional manipulation, possessive relationships, and explicit sexual content. Intended for adult readers only. Read at your own risk. When 19 year old Elias moves deeper into his wealthy stepfather Vane’s world, he’s already hiding a shameful obsession, years of stealing Vane’s clothes, breathing in his scent, and touching himself while whispering “Daddy.” His cruel stepbrother Cyrus catches him in the act, snaps proof, and blackmails Elias into becoming his secret, unwilling lover. Broken and desperate, Elias drugs Vane one night and offers himself completely. To his shock, Vane doesn’t stop him—he takes him hard, raw, and possessive, awakening a hunger in both of them that can’t be caged. That first forbidden night is explosive: Vane pins Elias to the rug, fills him deep, growls “Mine” against his throat as Elias comes undone, crying out “Daddy” while Vane thrusts until they both shatter. Now Elias is trapped between two dangerous men, one who degrades him with threats, and one who owns him with terrifying tenderness. He should hate it. Instead, he’s starting to crave being claimed by both.

As the only daughter of a casino magnate, I have grown up surrounded by danger and betrayal. To keep me safe, my father has raised nine bodyguards from a young age. After I come of age, he asks me to choose one of them as my fiance. Everyone expects me to pick Harry Hunt, the man I have secretly loved for years. But I do not—not after what happened in my previous life. On the day of our engagement, I was kidnapped, and my hands were pierced with poison-tipped spikes. Tortured and desperate, I called Harry for help. His response still haunts me today. "Victoria, stop with these games. Your location shows you're still in the hotel suite. Trying to pull these pity stunts just to keep me to yourself? Pathetic." With another woman laughing in the background, I closed my eyes and gave up. As the iron cage sank beneath the waves and the sea filled my lungs, my life ended. Then, I open my eyes and find myself back on the day my father asked me to make a choice. This time, Harry's name is the first I cross off the list. But why is he crying and begging me to marry him at my engagement banquet with Jeffrey Reed?

I've been with Hansen Fullerton for seven years. One day, he tells me he's sick of me and dumps me for a younger, more vivacious woman. I don't kick up a fuss this time. Instead, I throw away my ring and cut up the wedding gown I've just bought. Then, I take a red-eye flight away from Gold City. His friends place bets on how long it'll take for me to return and beg for reconciliation. Hansen sneers. "She'll be back in less than three days, crying and begging me to take her back." However, more than three days pass without any news from me. Hansen loses his cool and calls me for the first time. "You'd better come back once you've had enough of this, Christine." All he hears is a man's low chuckle on the other end of the line. "You shouldn't have taken this long to pacify a woman, Mr. Fullerton. Look at how someone's already taken her away from you." Hansen snarls, "Tell Christine to answer the phone!" Landon Shore lowers his head to kiss me. "She can't—she's still out of it. I have to kiss her awake first."

After three years of relentless pursuit, I finally won over Logan—a guy who had never shown the slightest interest in women—and he cherished me like I was his entire world. On the eve of our wedding, I accidentally overheard one of his friends teasing him, "Logan, are you really ready to step into the grave of marriage for Bella? And what about Joann? She's chased you for so many years. Don't you feel anything for her?" Logan's voice was cold. "If we hadn't grown up together, I wouldn't even want to see Joann's face. She could never compare to Bella, ever." So, I held onto dreams for our future, and I married him. Two years later, at our daughter's hundred-day celebration, Joann came to me in tears, claiming her baby had leukemia—and that only my daughter could save her baby. Logan's eyes reddened instantly, and without hesitation, he sent our daughter into the operating room to have her blood drawn. I struggled in the bodyguards' grip desperately, crying and pleading, "Logan, Lily is still so little. She can't take this. She'll die! Please, use the cord blood I stored for her. I'm begging you, let her go." He kicked me aside. "It's just a bit of blood. Joann's baby is dying, and you're still this selfish? Get out!" When the surgery was over, he tossed a divorce agreement at me. "Joann's child is mine. I have to give them both a name, and I'm taking her abroad for treatment." I stared at my silent, motionless daughter in the operating room, my heart turning to ash. "Fine." Six years later, Logan saw me in a baby store, holding the hand of my five-year-old son. Logan reached out with a pained look, trying to pick him up. "Why did you cut Lily's hair so short? She looks like a boy. What were you thinking?"