Remorse In Tagalog

After five years of marriage, the doctor told me I was pregnant. It was something I had waited for so long. Yet, along with that good news came a nightmare. My medical tests showed that I had cancer, and it had already spread. The doctor gave me less than a month to live. I froze, gripping the report so tightly my knuckles turned white. Tears streamed down my face as I thought about how my unborn child would never get to feel a mother's embrace. My grief was interrupted by the ping of an incoming text message. It was from Mom. [Since you're so selfish and refuse to donate a kidney to save Nattie's life, you should divorce Davon. Let him marry Nattie instead. At least that way, you can fulfill her dying wish.] My tears fell harder. It was not that I refused to donate a kidney to Natalie Rivera, my sister, who was in the final stages of kidney disease. In truth, I only had one kidney left. Five years ago, I had already given one to Dad. Now, with my life counting down to its final days, I decided that I would donate my remaining kidney to Natalie. I would also let my husband, Davon Parker, go with her. Before I went into surgery, my parents praised me for finally being thoughtful, saying I had finally learned to care about my sister. They said that once the surgery was over, the whole family would go on vacation together. Davon even said he was proud that I was no longer selfish and promised he would make it up to me in the future. None of them knew I did not have a future. After the surgery, what would be pushed out of the operating room would be a cold, lifeless body.

The entire world froze. Overnight, the city plunged to –40 °F. Yet, in the middle of this frozen apocalypse, my mother, my sister and her son moved into the home I bought for my marriage. Even my own husband took my sister’s side. They threw me out into the freezing cold to scavenge for supplies. I came back frozen half to death, and they had not even saved me a bowl of warm soup. Then, my sister shoved me straight off the fifth-floor landing. In that bitter cold, my body hit the ground and shattered like glass. When I woke again, I found myself back in the week before the apocalypse struck. This time, I resolved to cut them all off. I would make every last one of them pay.

Led by my ex-boyfriend, the police raid the base of the major crime syndicate. The antagonist takes his own life, and the only person who could prove my identity as a top-secret undercover operative died two weeks ago. My ex-boyfriend drags me into court. He wants my memories extracted so I can face public judgment and sentencing. Nevertheless, I have no intention of explaining myself. "I plead guilty. Grant me a swift death." The masses are outraged, despising me with every fiber of their being. "Ha! You despicable traitor! You monster! You're a rat who exposes undercover journalists, yet you dare ask for a swift death? "This is the world of a novel. The maximum penalty for a guilty plea is euthanasia, but if judgment is passed by the court, you will suffer endless torment until your last breath!" "You don't deserve euthanasia. You belong in hell!" Rotten eggs and stones pelt me mercilessly. Even with my face now covered in blood, I make no effort to avoid the assaults. I only longed for death. My ex-boyfriend glares at me coldly. "You betrayed me. What right do you have to ask for a swift death? Your memories must be extracted and judged in court. Death will come only after your torment!" They are the ones who demand my memories be extracted and judged, yet after seeing them, why are they also the ones who go mad with regret?

Three months after my death, my brother is hospitalized due to leukemia. That's when my family finally remembers me after kicking me out. My sister, Ruby, texts me. "Caleb is sick, so get the hell back here for a bone marrow transplant. Mom and Dad will stop holding a grudge against you for stealing money." Dad calls me a few times, but they go unanswered. He curses, "How dare she! She didn't even bother calling since we kicked her out a few months ago!" Mom holds my brother, Caleb. Her gaze is full of heartache. "Jolene is an ingrate. She must be hiding because she doesn't want to save you. I'll find her, even if I have to scour the world!" None of them care about me. They have no idea that I died on the night they kicked me out of the house. When they tossed me out, my head bumped into a stone hidden beneath the snow. The snow was particularly heavy that night. It kept falling and falling. Later, when they finally start looking for me, they find my frozen body underneath the thick snow.

In the three years since I became Zander's mate, I've tried to kill myself ninety-nine times. Kidnapped by a rival pack in my youth, years of torture nearly destroyed me. I clawed my way back to the Crescent Moon Pack, only to find my place had been taken by an adopted daughter, Vivian. My Beta parents doted on her, and my fated mate—the Alpha himself—had eyes only for her. I begged them, told them my kidnapping and my suicide attempts weren't accidents, but all I ever heard was: "Ember, you're delusional. You just wandered off and got lost." "You tried to drown yourself in the river." The people closest to me, and not one of them believed me. Until the ninety-ninth time. Another "suicide." When I woke up three days later, I rubbed my aching head. My eyes were vacant, my own gaze foreign to me. I had forgotten who I was, forgotten the humiliation I'd endured, forgotten the desperate girl who had thrown away her dignity for a scrap of her Alpha's affection. At the pack ceremony, while everyone waited for me to fawn pathetically over Zander, a single tear slid down my cheek for reasons I couldn't comprehend. I wiped it away and, under the shocked stares of the entire pack, announced calmly: "Zander," my voice was steady. "I don't love you anymore. So I, Ember of the Crescent Moon Pack, hereby reject you as my mate." "This little act again?" Zander sneered, his eyes glinting with the same casual contempt they always held for me. But he didn't know. This time, I was leaving him for good. It wasn't until I vanished completely that the ones who'd never believed me were the ones who truly went mad.

The moment I was born, I took her life. They called me a murderer. Marcus used to burn me with cigarette butts, and Dad would say it was my fate. “You’re a curse. If you had any conscience, you’d have gone to join Mom a long time ago to repay what you owe.” When Marcus was diagnosed with kidney failure, that same cold, distant father knelt in front of me. “Please… save him…” I put my hand on Dad’s shoulder. “Dad, I’ll do the surgery. But can you promise me one thing?” Dad performed the surgery himself. It was a success. He saved the son he loved most and took the life of the daughter he hated. But after I died, Dad turned himself in to the police, and Marcus lost his mind.

Reborn as the long-lost Rogers heir, missing for fifteen years, I avoided every chance to bond with my two brothers in this family. When they tossed me Vivi’s discarded, ill-fitting gown for the family gala, I smiled and put it on. When they sent Vivi to get an elite education while ordering me to scrub the utility room, I picked up the mop without a word. When they let Vivi chase love and dumped her rejected suitor on me, I didn’t fight. I accepted her leftovers with a calm nod. This was all because in my past life, I had spent my entire life desperate for my brothers' approval, only to end up despised by everyone for it. When I died in the crossfire of a gangland shootout, my own son pushed my body away in disgust. "Mom, did you really waste your whole life on such a petty fight with Aunt Vivi? Dying for the family would have been a more dignified end. At least then you wouldn't have disgraced our name." I left this world filled with resentment, only to open my eyes and find myself back at the moment I first set foot in the Rogers estate. This time, I'm done fighting. The power, the name, the honor. I'm letting them have it all. I’ve already been accepted into a closed-door medical project. Soon they will never see me again.

When my appendix bursts, my parents, my brother, and even my fiancé are all too busy celebrating my sister's birthday. I'm outside the operating room, frantically calling every family member I can think of to sign the consent form, but every call is either ignored or hung up on. After hanging up on me, my fiancé, Joel Graham, texts back. "Sophie, stop being dramatic. It's Yvette's 18th birthday today. Whatever it is can wait until after the party." I quietly set my phone down and sign the consent form myself. It's the ninety-ninth time they've chosen Yvette Norton, my sister, over me. This time, I choose not to care. I'll stop letting their favoritism hurt me. Instead, I'll do everything they ask of me without complaint. They'll all think I've finally learned to be obedient, and they'll never realize that I'm preparing to leave them for good.

I plan a family trip at my mother Lucia Sweeney's request. While avoiding the danger zones, my sister Linda Harper and I are ambushed by rogues. To protect her, I throw myself in the path of their claws and get driven into a silver mine. As I fall, my back is slashed open to the bone, and shards of silver embed deep into my right leg. The searing silver poison spreads quickly, burning through me and my wolf. My wolf is whimpering—she's close to death. However, as the pack's chief healer, Mom gathers all the healers around Linda to give her a full check-up over a few minor scrapes. I sob and beg her to save me first. "Mom, the poison has almost reached my heart. I can't hold on anymore." She turns around impatiently and yells, "Are you seriously still fighting with Linda now? Do you have any idea how close she came to getting clawed in the face by a silver claw? Our pack doesn't have a wolf as heartless as you!" And in that moment, I hear my wolf's final whimper, saying goodbye. I finally fall asleep in the cold wind, never waking up again.

When my grandpa fell gravely ill and needed treatment abroad, the elders in the family decided to choose a junior to accompany him. They picked my cousin, but my mom tearfully pleaded with me to take her place. "You're a doctor. Caring for your grandfather is second nature to you. Bianca is an orphan, frail and delicate. She can't handle such a grueling task." To save her distress, I agreed to go in Bianca Pittman's stead, embarking on a five-year stay abroad. When my grandpa finally recovered, I boarded a flight home, eager to reunite with my family. But as I landed, a post on my mother's social media froze me in my tracks. [My daughter is getting married! Thank you all for your blessings!] But I was her only daughter. I couldn't help but wonder who she was referring to.