Quotes About Crying

I am standing in front of the mirror only on my red skirt and blouse.He is wearing me a red saree.Tears are flowing from my eyes like nigra falls.After wearing me the saree,he sat me down in front of the mirror and started wearing me jewellery. He applied red lipstick on my lips and said seductively, "you look very fuckable in red colour."I replied crying, "please.Let me see my brother.He is very sick.Let me go to the hospital for once".Hearing me, he slapped very hard on my face and fisted my hair tightly.He said anger dripping from his voice,"you dare to talk back.Did you just forget your place in front of me.Tell me who you are?Tell me whom you belong? I hissed in pain and replied," I am your doll. I only belong to you. I am only yours" . . . Devika, A 20-year-old college-going girl was married to the mafia leader Abhinav. After her marriage, her husband started torturing her for some reason which she doesn't know. Will she ever come to know why she is being tortured?Join Abhinav and Devika's, bittersweet love journey and be a part of their journey.. . . Warning- Disturbing scene ahead like violence, rape and mental abuse. Read at your own risk. It's a work of fiction. So, kindly take it as fiction. English isn't my first language so apologizing in advance for grammatical errors.

For five years, Elara Ashford was the perfect billionaire wife—gentle, loyal, and endlessly patient. She loved her husband quietly, standing behind him as he rose to the top of the business world. To Julian Ashford, the ruthless CEO of Ashford Group, his wife was nothing more than a convenient presence—someone who would never leave, never complain, and never matter. Until the night he publicly humiliates her and proves, beyond doubt, that she will always come second. Instead of begging or crying, Elara calmly asks for a divorce. Certain she will regret it, Julian signs without hesitation. But Elara doesn’t come back. She disappears—and when she returns, she is no longer the invisible woman he discarded. She is confident, radiant, and untouchable, drawing admiration from powerful men who now see her worth. That is when Julian’s world begins to unravel. Haunted by regret, consumed by obsession, and driven to desperation, the billionaire who once controlled everything finds himself losing sleep, sanity, and pride—all for the woman he cast aside. As Julian abandons his arrogance to chase the wife he never appreciated, Elara must decide whether a man who broke her so completely deserves a second chance. Especially when the truth finally emerges: She was never weak. She was always the one holding his empire together. Now the man who once looked down on her must face the most painful reality of all— losing her may be the one mistake he can never undo.

I've been in a three-year relationship with Antonio Bianco, the successor of the Bianco family. Everyone knows very well how much he loves me. But everything has changed the moment Antonio's older brother passes away, leaving behind his newly-widowed wife, Rosetta Serra, who's also pregnant. Antonio heeds Augusto Bianco's last wish by taking great care of Rosetta. He even ditches me at the altar numerous times for her sake. On our 51st wedding, Antonio still ends up leaving with Rosetta, who keeps crying her heart out. I just gaze at the way Antonio scrambles to come up with a new excuse. I notice how skillfully the wedding planning company is cleaning up the wedding venue in advance. I also spot the flash of a provocative smile Rosetta has shown to me behind Antonio's back as she links arms with him. Suddenly, I feel like a total joke for being with such a man over the past three years. When the hotel manager gives me the bill, he asks casually, "When will the 52nd wedding be held, Ms. Marino? We can make the preparations in advance." "There's no need for a wedding anymore," I respond with a smile. "Even if a wedding is to be held, the groom won't be the same person anyway." After leaving the hotel, I dial the number of the person in charge of the International Medical Organization. "Hello, I'm Cecilia Marino. I'd like to accept your invitation to join your organization, and I can leave anytime soon."

A year after Easton Carter turns down my 99th proposal, he calls me in the middle of the night, crying like his world's falling apart. He says his grandmother is dying and her last wish is to see him married. He tells me he's finally ready. He's already ordered the dress and booked the venue. But when I show up at the venue in my wedding dress, his friends burst out laughing. "You actually believed that? And you even swapped the cheap dress he ordered for a custom-made one? You're the queen of pathetic!" Then one of them yells, "Look, the groom's side piece showed up to crash the wedding!" "Security, come get this homewrecker!" Guests turn to stare like they're watching a joke unfold. Easton doesn't even look at me. He turns to the woman he loves and says, "I told you I'd ruin this wedding for you. I meant it. If you can't have him, no one will!" She gives him a satisfactory smile. Then, he finally glances at me. "Tina said you did her a favor today. When we get married, you can be the bridesmaid, and you can still spend time with us after that." So, he brought me here just to help his sweetheart ruin her crush's wedding. But when Easton finally looks up at the wedding banner and realizes that I'm the bride, his eyes flare with rage.

I had just left the hospital after undergoing a dilation and curettage procedure for uterine fibroids. On the bus, I happened to encounter a woman who was crying and claiming she had menstrual cramps and a terrible stomachache, asking me to give up my seat. But I refused. I never expected the woman to be the famous internet influencer, Bella Marsh. While I was completely unprepared, she started a livestream, and the next day, I was violently attacked online and pushed onto the trending searches. Netizens even dug up the record of my procedure at the hospital. “With a uterine wall that thin, it’s obvious she has had so many failed pregnancies.” “No wonder she was so shameless and refused to give up her seat—turns out she’s a despicable woman.” The so-called righteous netizens harassed me until I fell into depression, and even my boyfriend stepped forward to accuse me of being dirty and said he wanted to break up. Unable to endure the blow, I jumped from the rooftop, while the female influencer gained tens of millions of followers and began livestream selling, earning more money than she could count. Only after my death did I learn that the influencer had been my boyfriend’s childhood crush. To boost the popularity of her livestream, she and my boyfriend had deliberately staged the entire scene. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very day Bella asked me to give up my seat.

My husband had a severe addiction for physical intimacy. However, in the seven years of our marriage, he never touched me, not even once. To suppress his urges, he soaked himself in bone-chilling ice water every night. His arms were covered in needle marks from constant injections. It broke my heart to see him like that. I offered myself to him many times, but he insisted on simply giving me a restrained kiss on the forehead before saying, “Don’t be silly, Summer. I’m not like those animals. How could I ever bear to hurt you? For you, I’d gladly live the rest of my life in a platonic marriage.” This strange, almost obsessive restraint of his lasted seven years. Despite the numerous times he pushed himself far enough to end up hospitalized, he still refused to cross that line. Then, on our wedding anniversary, a young woman named Anna Brandt came in for her ninth hymen restoration surgery. After the anesthetic was administered, her cheeks flushed red. As her mind grew hazy, she started crying weakly like a lost kitten. Looking at the love bites scattered across her body, I shook my head and assumed she was just another girl who had gone astray. That was until I heard her last tearful whisper. “John Shaw, you jerk.” My hand trembled and I nearly dropped the scalpel. Because my husband’s name also was John Shaw.

Devil’s own incarnation in sparkling designers. Zade Dalton Gomez is a man not to be trifled with, and Carla Meadows has always been aware of that, which was why she knew she was doomed the moment this man involved himself in her mess and forced her into a contract marriage with himself. Tycoon, big shot, and powerful with near-impossible connections, Zade was a conventionally attractive, highly sought after bachelor in the country. Carla, whose reputation in the country is completely ruined after going to prison in place of a man that ended up backstabbing her, has been deserted by everyone and is left to face her plight herself. She hoped for a miracle that would bring her out of this humiliating mess, and not a union with the devil himself, which is bound to leave her scorched in the end. Zade detests criminals. Zade loathed Carla. She and her ex-husband were responsible for a trauma of his, and he vowed to punish Carla while making use of her— to kill a handful of birds at once before discarding her. It’s just a contract marriage, but neither of them anticipated desire coming into play. A contract marriage born from raw hatred, a thirst for revenge, and punishment. What could go wrong? ~~~ Ex-husband showed up with divorce papers for me to sign. He thought I’d be crying, but I readily signed it with a smile. When he sighted me in the arms of his arch enemy, he instantly grew jealous and now, he wants me back. But, too bad for him, cause I’ve moved on from trash to diamonds!

“You’re useless.” I lift my head, wrists aching where the rope bites into skin already numb from the cold. My father stands over me, his shadow long and sharp in the firelight spilling from the clearing behind him. I can hear the celebration. My sister’s laughter. The pack chanting her name. “I tried,” I say. My voice cracks, and I hate it for that alone. “I did everything you asked.” He scoffs. “Everything?” His gaze drags over me like I’m something rotten. “If you’d done anything right, your mother would still be alive.” My chest burns, each breath a knife. “She chose—” “She died because of you,” he snaps. “Because you were too weak to protect yourself. Too weak to be worth the trouble.” I swallow, tasting blood. “I’m your daughter.” “No,” he says coldly. “You’re a reminder of my failure.” He turns away, already done with me. “Be grateful I’m hiding you instead of killing you. An Alpha can’t afford dead weight.” The rope tightens as he knots it higher, out of reach. He doesn’t look back. Behind him, the pack howls in celebration. I lower my head and let the tears fall silently into the dirt because crying is the only thing they haven’t taken from me yet. But as the night deepens and the forest breathes around me, something else stirs—slow and patient. They call me useless. One day, they’ll choke on that word.

In the Santoro family, there was one rule: the heir marries a daughter from another powerful Family. But Alessio Santoro was crazy. He wanted to marry me, a nobody from a flower shop. He knelt in the family chapel for ten days straight. He even took a bullet fired by his own father, the Don. All just to walk away from his title and run away with me. I held him, crying, begging him to stop. He just smiled and kissed my eyes, wiping my tears. "Don't cry, Thea. As long as I can marry you, it's all worth it." In the end, the Santoros relented. But they had one condition: Alessio would still produce the next heir. Just not with me. He had to have a son with Aurelia Rossi. So I endured. I endured listening to them through the wall, night after agonizing night. I endured the smell of her perfume on his skin, the sight of her marks on his neck every time he kissed me. A year later, Aurelia got pregnant. It was a girl. Alessio begged me, his eyes red. "Just a little longer, Thea." So I waited another year. Finally, news came. Aurelia was pregnant with a boy. I thought we could finally leave, finally be free. But then disaster struck. Aurelia’s daughter had a sudden, violent allergic reaction. Everyone blamed me. They threw me in the cellar and left me to die. And Alessio? He believed them. This time, I was the one who gave up. I walked away from everything.

For ten years, I was a peace offering to Alpha Kane. And he chose his adopted sister, Fiona, over me 77 times. He planned my birthday around her tastes. At the Hunter’s Moon festival, she stood beside him in the Luna’s ceremonial gown. My gown. Even on our mating night, he left me. Fiona faked a panic attack, claiming her wolf was losing control. He spent the night coddling her. I forgave him the first 76 times. Because he’d saved my life once, even if he didn’t remember. But when I was kidnapped, he had to choose: trade the pack's sacred artifact for my life, or stay with Fiona and her latest self-made drama. He chose her. The kidnappers injected me with a lethal dose of wolfsbane. I felt it tearing my wolf apart, devouring my life force from the inside out. The 77th time. I was finally ready to give up. But I was saved. By Drake, Alpha of the Nightfall Pack. The one who'd been watching over me for fifteen years.. That’s when I learned the truth. I’d been thanking the wrong man. The one who saved me was always Drake. Never Kane. So I went back. I filed to sever our mate bond with the Elders. In four days, I'll be free. And Kane can be with his precious Fiona forever. So why, now that it’s all over, is he on his knees, begging for me back and crying that he always loved me?