Slipping Through My Fingers Meaning

After my parents died in a car crash, my cousin stole the compensation money and moved overseas to start a business. My aunt begged me on her knees not to call the police. Then, she locked me in a dark basement for three months. I was close to breaking down and ending my life when Julien Lawson, the neighbor’s son, broke down the basement door and saved me. “Joyce, what they did is unforgivable! They stole the compensation money for your parents’ deaths. You were going to use it to open your own studio! “Marry me. I’ll protect you.” He was the only person who cared about me after my parents died. I was so grateful that I married him and had his child. I worked three jobs during the day to help support the orphanage that Julien ran. At night, I took care of our child and created design sketches. But no matter how hard I tried, none of my work was ever accepted. Even though Julien told me to keep at it, I felt discouraged and thought of giving up on my design career to focus on our family. One day, our child was sick. I went to take over the shift from Julien when I overheard him talking to my aunt on the stairs. “Julien, it’s been ten years. Joyce’s designs are getting better and better. She even passed the first round of the national competition. Are you really not going to tell her about the next round?” my aunt asked. Her voice trembled. Julien said coldly, “For years, I’ve been sending Joyce’s design sketches to Mindy to copy and enter in the competitions or publish as her own. “To help Mindy’s career, I can’t let Joyce move on to the next round. “Joyce has talent. If people notice her, she’ll be a threat to Mindy’s career!”

People said the five years I spent with Chase Sean had witnessed my unrequited love for him.By the reservoir, he casually threw my bag into the water.He joked, "If Evelyn Thea has the courage to jump in and retrieve the bag for me, I'll admit her as my girlfriend."He didn't expect that I would actually jump.In that instant, a rare panic flashed across his eyes.Later, I resurfaced from the reservoir with bloody thighs, clutching a broken bracelet.It was a gift from Chase...

"You are taking a big risk, sweetheart." He warned, eyes dark and menacing. I looked at the already torn documents on the floor and it sent chills down my spine. *** Having a one-night-stand with someone older than me seems deadly, especially when the said person is my billionaire step-uncle. Even though I was the model everyone yearned for, my virginity was something I wasn't ready to give to any man. But on that fateful night, I lost it to him and I would have never imagined that it could turn into something this big. Despite knowing this, the thirst for a drop from his hot river of sexiness can't be quenched.

AHEM *CLEARS THROAT* THIS STORY CONTAINS MATURE CONTENTS THAT ARE VERY VIVID, IT'S NOT ALLOWED FOR ANYONE UNDER EIGHTEEN, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. There were secrets I kept from everyone else because I would be sent for counselling or even therapy if I ever told anybody about it but there was no way that I could control the burning desire I felt when I saw my step uncle. "Forbidden!" the voice in my head would warn but it doesn't stop the throbbing between my legs. I see the way he looks at me and I'm certain that he wouldn't be able to hold himself much longer, soon, we both would have to keep dirty secrets from everyone else because there is no way I would tell after he has had me tied to his bed.

On the day of my coming-of-age ceremony, my father’s brother-in-arms pushed photos of his daughters in front of me and told me to choose a fiancee. Without hesitation, I picked the photo of the eldest daughter, Yvonne Shaw. Everyone around me stared in shock. They all knew that I was deeply in love with the second daughter, Natalie Shaw. In my previous life, I had chased after Natalie for ten years before finally marrying her. Through our marriage, she became the heiress of the Shaw family. But three years after we got married, she became pregnant with my brother’s child. Our parents were furious. They forced her to get an abortion and sent my brother away. From then on, Natalie hated me to the core. Every night, she would bring home men who looked like my brother and spend the night with them. The constant torment wore me down, and I eventually fell gravely ill and died a miserable death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to that night when I had to choose a fiancee. This time, I chose to let them be together. But what I did not expect was that Natalie had been reborn too.

What were the odds that I'd just fucked my boss and been too buzzed, too horny to clock it? Impossible. Catastrophic. My life was like a ticking bomb of fuckups already; this would only make it explode. "Get a grip, Shayle," I whispered, shaking my head hard. It can't be. -------------- What would you do if you found out you only had four months left to live? In the case of Shayle Vale, she was the definition of a plain Jane; quiet, overlooked, and freshly dumped by a boyfriend who called her ‘boring’. But when the doctor drops her death sentence, she decides ‘boring’ dies today. She made a list; Quit her job, Lose her virginity to her hot next-door neighbor, get a tattoo and Do what the fuck she wants. But life doesn’t play fair. Her shitty boss refused to accept her resignation, her neighbor was allegedly still a virgin, and nothing on her list was going according to plan. Now Shayle’s plain, safe little life is spiraling into messy office wars, late-night temptations, secrets she never saw coming and a toxic love triangle. Will she tick off her last wishes, or will fate throw her off the list completely and into the arms of two sinfully attractive men instead?

Difficult to get along with the in-laws, constant arguments with the only brother-in-law, worsened by the man labeled as her husband... it's like having your head detached while your toes are being tickled, making Samanta Kiehl constantly cultivate patience. Until her sincere love is rewarded with a divorce letter. Her question always spins in her head. Is this luck or misfortune for her? But Samanta remains Samanta. She lets it all resonate in her life. She believes that payback will come. Someday, there will be a life and a new man whom she will tread with tranquility. But when? Isn't human patience supposed to have its limits?

My best friend, Maya, flew in from Miami for my bachelorette week. My last days of freedom. She insisted on a girls' night in to celebrate, ordering all my favorite takeout. She asked me to hold her mobile phone and wait.Then her phone lit up. A message from some guy. A shirtless pic. Text: I need you tonight. Another photo buzzed through. Sex toys. Bondage gear straight out of a movie. My face burned. My heart hammered against my ribs. I’d just stumbled into her secret life. But the next image made my blood run cold. A close-up of the man's chest. A jagged scar I knew better than my own reflection. It belonged to my fiancé, Luciano Carbone.

My sister, Laura Ward, died the year we were ten, the year we snuck out of school to play. From that day forward, my mother’s grief turned into a burning hatred for me, convinced that I was the reason my sister was gone. She treated me like a servant, like an unwanted burden, and filled the void by adopting a perfect, obedient daughter to replace my sister. She took everything from me without a second thought — my rights, my freedom, my very existence — and even demanded that I give up a kidney for her precious adopted girl. Alright, Mother, if you want a life, I’ll give you mine! But it was only when my body lay cold, my breath long gone, that she finally turned and looked at me.

Seven years after my death, an engagement invitation from my ex-girlfriend arrives at my house. Back then, I had broken up with her in my lowest, most desperate days and married someone else. Now, she has reinvented herself as a rising powerhouse worth hundreds of billions, driven by revenge and eager to see me regret everything and beg for mercy. Unfortunately for her, I am not the one who shows up. She looks around in open contempt, convinced my absence means guilt, shame, and fear. When I finally appear, all she sees is an urn.