Summer Heat Quotes

Nasa palengke ako ng may matandang babae na hindi ko kilala ang humawak sa kamay ko ng mahigpit. Agad ko na pinrotektahan ang baby bump ko, pero sinabi niya, “May naglagay ng swap spell sa iyo. Malapit na ilipat ang patay na bata sa katawan mo.” Sa tingin ko sinungaling siya, pero sinabi niya, “Bilisan mo at subukan pasukahin ang sarili mo. Dapat mo subukan isuka ang isdang kinain mo hanggang sa kaya mo.”

Si Macie Smith ay kasal kay Edward Fowler ng dalawang taon na—dalawang taon na pagiging housekeeper ni Edward, walang pagod na naging tapat at mapagkumbaba. Dalawang taon ay sapat na para maubos ang bawat butil ng pagmamahal niya kay Edward. Ang kasal nila ay natapos nang bumalik mula sa ibang bansa ang first love ni Edward. Simula ngayon, wala na silang kinalaman sa isa’t isa. Wala na silang utang sa isa’t isa. “Hindi na ako bulag sa pag ibig, Edward. Sa tingin mo ba ay susulyapan pa kita kung nakatayo ka sa harap ko ngayon?” … Pinirmahan ni Edward ang divorce papers, hindi nag aatubili. Alam niya na mahal siya ni Macie ng higit pa sa buhay mismo—paano siya iiwan ni Macie? Hinihintay niya na pagsisihan ni Macie ang lahat—babalik si Macie ng luhaan, nagmamakaawa na tanggapin siya ni Edward. Gayunpaman, napagtanto ni Edward na mukhang seryoso si Macie ngayon. Hindi na mahal ni Macie si Edward. … Noong tumagal, lumabas ang katotohanan, at nabunyag ang nakaraan. Sa huli ay nagkamali si Edward kay Macie noon. Nataranta siya, nagsisisi, at nagmamakaawa kay Macie upang patawarin siya. Gusto niyang makipagbalikan. Sa sobrang irita ni Macie sa ugali ni Edward ay nagpadala siya ng notice na nagsasabi na naghahanap siya ng asawa. Sa sobrang selos ni Edward ay halos mawala siya sa tamang pag iisip. Gusto niyang magsimula muli, ngunit napagtanto niya na hindi man lang siya pasok sa minimum requirements.

After failing the mission, the System gave me one final chance, and to succeed, I had to give birth to a child. The System promised that if the baby were born safely, it would reveal the truth to my target and give me one last glimmer of hope. However, six months into my pregnancy, just when things seemed stable, I was dragged onto an operating table in the middle of the night by my husband and family. My husband stopped the anesthesiologist from giving me any pain relief. “Let her feel the pain,” he said coldly. “We need to keep the kidneys as fresh as possible.” My parents instructed the doctor to draw my blood. “She’s the same blood type as our precious girl. Let’s take some for backup.” Even my childhood friend, the boy who had always been by my side, was the one to slice open my abdomen.  They wanted my kidneys to save my sister, who was dying from kidney failure. No one believed I was pregnant. No matter how much I begged, they went ahead with the operation, tearing me open. The baby couldn’t survive, and I died on that operating table. However, as my soul began to fade away, something strange happened. Those who had murdered me—my husband, my parents, my so-called friend—they all lost their minds.

“คุณว่าน ให้ผมเอาเถอะนะครับ ผมจะตั้งใจเอาเต็มที่ ผมทำให้ได้ทุกท่าเลยนะครับ ขอแค่คุณว่านยอม...วาดรูปให้ผม”

My dormmate falls in the dorm and sends the rest of us the hospital bill. She wants us to compensate her. "I only fell because you guys left a puddle of water at the door. It's only right that you compensate me, don't you think? It's not much—you each just have to give me a thousand dollars to cover the checkup, medication, transport, the classes I missed, and the mental distress I suffered." I exchange looks with my two other dormmates. All three of us politely decline. That's when she goes berserk. She screeches threateningly, "Do you know who my father is? I'll make sure you guys can't graduate if you don't compensate me!"

The fake daughter married my boyfriend. My mouth was taped and I was being chopped into pieces by her admirer. The entire family took turns to call me. My mother said, "How ungrateful you are. I should not have brought you home back then." Father added, "Don't bother coming back if you do not attend Samantha's wedding." Brother said, "Let me tell you, you shall root in hell if you choose not to attend the wedding." At that moment, I didn't even have the energy to shout for help due to excessive blood loss. Everyone lost their patience, "Speak up! Are you dead or what?" I could only see the calls being disconnected. One thing they did not know, I was really dead.

On Christmas Eve, my six-year-old, Yule, was dying from cancer, and all he wanted was a gift from his dad dressed as Santa. I called Peter, my husband, begging him to come. His reply? "Can you stop blowing up my phone? I don't have time for this! I'm helping Tracey find Puffy. Do you know how upset she is?" Oh, Tracey. His first love. And Puffy? Her dog. I told him Yule might not make it through the night. His response? A straight-up dagger: "Don't act like this isn't your fault, Freya. If Yule hadn't kicked Puffy, none of this would've happened. Tomorrow, make sure he apologizes to Tracey." Then he hung up. That night, I sat with Yule, crying as I helped him celebrate his last Christmas. By morning, Peter's social medias were still full of posts about that freaking dog. Mine? Yule's obituary. Ten years of marriage, gone.

What happens when the tormented female lead in a novel wakes up and decides to get together with the second male lead? Coincidentally enough, I'm transmigrated into the body of this tormented female lead!

My husband's childhood friend says she wants her crystal beads to soak up some of the good luck in our home. Because of that, he scatters the beads on the floor, making me slip and miscarry. I'm in agony as I lie on the operating table. I call my husband incessantly, but all he does is block my number. I lie in the hospital ward after the operation. I see my husband's childhood friend's social media update—a photo of him worshipfully holding out a certificate while getting down on one knee. It's captioned, "He loves me so much! I said I'm interested in running a business and he actually set up a company for me!" On the day of the branch company's grand opening, my husband's childhood friend wears an expensive custom-made gown. Meanwhile, I wear her discarded goods. I'm barred from even entering the building. I suppress my bitterness and call my lawyer. "Are the divorce procedures done?"

After my husband's car accident, I did a checkup and found out he had a malignant brain tumor. Instead of telling him right away, I stuck the report in my bag, planning to wait for the right moment. Guess what? He found it first—and thought I was the one with the tumor. A few days later, I overheard him in his office, laughing with a buddy: "My wife? No looks, no figure, just money—and now she's got a brain tumor. Talk about a win for me. If Rainee hadn't gone abroad, I'd never have married her. Bad luck, huh? At least I dodged the kid bullet. Once she's gone, I get everything." Then he pulled the amnesia card, blamed it on the accident, and started treating Rainee like his wife. He even welcomed her into our house. I smiled and said, "Nathan, let's get a divorce."