The 99th Time He Gave Up On Me

Following the betrayal of her boyfriend and adoptive sister, Vanessa found herself pregnant without any knowledge of her baby's father. And five years later, she never deterred from her goal of finding her real parents. But her quest was interrupted when she met Alfred Whittaker, the president of G.I conglomerate and the most revered tycoon in the city. Not only did Alfred claim custody of her baby, but he also wanted her to marry him, to go against every logic she had ever constructed around herself. And as the path to achieving her dreams became narrower, she was left with no choice but to confront her fears; to marry Alfred. ~~~ As Vanessa navigates through life with Alfred, more contending forces stand in her way. What if the answer to her quest lies within his family? And what if those answers will the catalyst for the strength of their bond or its destruction?

A car accident leaves me unconscious for a full three years. When I wake up, my family bursts into tears of joy. They care for me with the utmost attention. But from their behavior, I sense something is wrong. There are women's clothes in the house that don't fit me. My mother's shopping cart is filled with mysterious baby items. My father's friends send congratulatory messages about a new child, and my husband is always working overtime. When my husband once again leaves me alone under the pretext that there is something urgent at the company, I secretly follow him. Inside a warmly decorated house, my parents and husband sit around a table. A woman who looks almost exactly like me is holding a baby just a few months old, gently coaxing the child to call my husband "Daddy".

When Alyssa's boyfriend dumped her after a five-year-long relationship, little did she know that she was in for a toe-curling slow burn romance that turns into a wild ride with another guy from another time. Through a bizarre phenomenon, she wakes up as Allena, a Celtic tribe chief's daughter in ~200 BCE. With secrets to keep, adventures to go on, and a man to love, a timeless heartwarming love story spanning tens of centuries unfolds as the tides of destiny bring two fated, star-crossed lovers together.

I accompany my husband, Michael Yates, to a stationed assignment on a remote island. Out at sea, a sudden storm hits. The ship capsizes and begins to sink. As the commanding officer, my husband gives the last life vest to his so-called godsister, Naomi Hollister. I don't cry or scream. I just watch silently as he carefully fastens the straps around her body. In my past life, I had clutched my pregnant belly and begged him for help. After a brief hesitation, he finally put the vest on me. But Naomi was swept away by the waves, and her body later washed up on shore. Only half of it remained. Michael insisted it wasn't my fault. He also said that saving me was his duty, both morally and professionally. He even took leave to stay by my side before I gave birth. But when my water broke in the dead of night, he pushed me into the sea. His eyes were bloodshot and burning with hatred. "Leah, if it weren't for you, Mimi would still be alive! Did you really have to force me to give you the vest when you were just pregnant? Couldn't you have waited a little longer? Why do you get to live? Go down there and die with her!" I drown, and fish tear my body apart. I die without even a full corpse left behind. And then, I open my eyes. I'm back on the day of the storm.

Liora Nyssa Cortez gave everything... her time, her heart, her trust for the people she loved, but one lie destroyed it all. Branded a bully for something she didn't do, she was left humiliated, betrayed, and abandoned by the very friends she once called family. The most painful part was Thorne Lucien Silva, the boy she loved deeply, didn't speak. He didn't ask for the truth. He didn't stay. He walked away like she never mattered. Seven years later, Liora is no longer the fragile girl they broke. She is stronger, fiercer, and successful on her own terms. Just when she thought she had finally moved on, fate pulls them back into each other's lives. Thorne is now a famous idol. Liora is the girl he once ruined. And the past still lingers, waiting to be faced.

Despite Mateo making Fayra feel that he could never love her, Fayra did not lose hope. Despite the pain he had caused, she remained by his side. She accepts every emotional pain caused by their marriage, but only until that day comes. Even in her dreams, she is not prepared for this scene. A painful truth, a painful scene. Fayra's marriage was best described as tragic, causing her to grant her husband's longing for so long. But before completely cutting off their ties, Fayra begged for him. Regardless of the consequences of her action, she did not hesitate to pursue what she wanted for the last time. Full of sadness but still content, Fayra leaves peacefully without saying goodbye. And, little did he know, he had granted a wish which would carry a memory of that night that his ex-wife decided not to tell anymore.

Vera thought she had it all. The fancy life, a loving husband, a place she could proudly call home. But it turned into a nightmare when her husband’s HER returned. She came to her breaking point after her darling husband, Anthony publicly humiliated her, threatening to jail her for confronting his mistress disguised as his business partner. Done with her husband’s excesses, she opted for divorce but Anthony taking advantage of her poor status, threatened her to stay for his benefits. Except that life opened an astounding chapter for Vera when she discovered she’s the lost daughter of the richest family in metropolis. Not only did she become the youngest of the five most powerful men in the city, they doted and swore protection to her. Now wielding so much power, Vera becomes the only link for Anthony to win the billion dollar deal with the Hudson’s which he had longed for. With tables turned, guess who knelt before Vera begging? But what makes this drama more interesting is that decisions don’t solely rest on Vera’s shoulders but Anthony has to confront her overprotective brothers who swore to ruin him for hurting their sister.

Four days after my death, my four-year-old daughter finally sensed that something was terribly wrong. The fridge door slammed into her forehead when she tried to get a snack. Normally, I would've been there in a heartbeat—arms open, kisses ready, whispering, "You're okay, sweetheart, Mommy's here." But this time, I just lay on the bed, cold and still.​ She didn't understand. She thought the sweet treat would make me respond. So she held the final piece of chocolate up to my mouth. "Here, Mommy. Have some chocolate..." But I didn't even blink. She climbed into my arms, clutching my clothes tightly. "Mommy... Mommy, wake up..." She waited for me to stroke her hair, to tell her that everything was going to be fine. There was only silence.​ Completely lost and scared, she found my phone. "Daddy, why is Mommy still sleeping?" she asked, her voice filled with desperation.​ In response, Oliver sent a photo of himself having Christmas Eve dinner with his childhood sweetheart. His voice was icy cold when he replied, "She's just sleeping, not dead. It's Christmas Eve, and I'm busy. Tell her to stop playing games and come apologize when she's done sulking." Then he hung up.​ But when the truth finally hit Oliver—when the coroner's report came, when the police knocked on his door right in the middle of his laughter, when he realized I'd been lying dead for four days while he toasted—he broke.

My mother-in-law, Eleanor, was having a heart attack, and my husband, Ben Dover—a heart surgeon—was the only one who could save her. Did I call him? Nope. I just stood there, watching her gasp like a fish out of water. In my last life, I'd begged Ben to come save her. He brushed me off, accusing me of interrupting his time with his mistress, Ima Schit. No matter how much I pleaded, he wouldn't come. Eleanor had died in the hospital. And when Johnny, my father-in-law, demanded answers, Ben flipped the script, saying I'd never even called. He made Eleanor's death my fault. Johnny, blinded by grief and fury, killed me. But plot twist—I woke up. Right back to the day this circus started.

Even after being married for three years, my husband treats me like a stranger. When I throw up blood from pregnancy complications, he's in the prayer room chanting for his foster sister, Yvie Springton. He accuses me of being dramatic. If Yvie so much as gets a headache, he drops everything and flies overseas to be by her side. When his parents are in critical condition after a car crash, I beg him to go see them one last time. But what does he do? He claims I'm cursing Yvie. When I go into early labor and cling to life after giving birth to our son, he posts a photo of his international boarding pass on social media. At his parents' funeral, he returns to the country with Yvie and demands I leave the marriage with nothing. The day our divorce finalizes, he holds a wedding ceremony with her. I bury his parents alone. Then, at an exclusive auction, dead set on winning the famous painting for Yvie, he offered a staggering price. Even his accounts are frozen. That's when he finally realizes he's been disowned by the Springton family. His eyes are bloodshot, and he's furious as he demands answers. I simply gesture for my lawyer to step forward. He says, "Mr. Springton, take a look at this will."