The Midnight Library Matt Haig

The crowd starts a countdown to midnight like New Year’s Eve. I close my eyes and smile, holding Liam’s hand tightly. Everyone yells “ONE!” and cheers. I open my eyes and see the iridescent liquid light of the full moon pouring out of the giant orb flowing down over us. People around us ooh and ahh at the beautiful sight.  When the first rays of moonlight cascade over my skin, I feel a heat inside me turn into a burning fire. I gasp and look up at Liam. He looks at me with wide, surprised eyes. “Mate,” he murmurs and squeezes my hand tighter. It isn’t a comforting feeling. There are no sparks like people describe when they touch their mate. Maybe it takes a few minutes to develop. I smile and try to admire Liam, but I don't want to say it back. Nothing feels different. I still love him, but he’s not the one. Liam is looking at me, but it isn’t a look of true love. It’s lustful and carnal. I feel a pit in my stomach. Liam isn’t my mate. How can this be? And how was he able to call me his mate if he’s not mine? “Zara,” a woman’s voice says in my head, “My name is Lavender. I’m your wolf and you’re in grave danger, my dear. You need to run. You need to run now. Your life depends on it.” “My… wolf?” With everything that happened the past couple of hours, I forgot she was waking up. “L-Lavender, what’s happening? What do you know?” Lavender repeats her order. “Zara, you need to run. I can explain later. I’m so sorry this is happening to you, sweet girl.”

On my birthday, I personally prepare 16 dishes. After setting up the candlelight, I open a bottle of red wine. I take a photo and send it to my husband, Eric Sinclair. "I'm working late tonight. Don't wait for me," he replies. I choose to believe him. But after midnight, I notice an Instagram story posted by Shirley Huxley, his secretary. Eric was there with her, dressed in the trench coat I once gave him. They sat side by side in the VIP seat of football stadium where my favorite Super Bowl take place. Entwined in a passionate embrace, they kissed beneath a sea of shimmering lights and the roar of thousands of fans. That game is the one I have always longed to experience with him. I look down at the cold food on the table. Eric's words keep ringing in my head. "I hate kissing." "Marriage is a partnership, not about love and kisses." Though we've been married for ten years, we've never shared a single kiss. Meanwhile, he's out there, kissing Shirley openly and passionately. Despite it all, not a single tear falls from my eyes. The next day, Eric settles into his chair, completely unfazed. "Return the gallery to Shelly," he commands. I nod quietly, saying nothing. Suddenly, Layla Sinclair, my daughter, comes running down the stairs and throws herself into Shirley's arms. "Aunt Shirley, you're my favorite. I don't like Mom!" In that instant, it hits me—the home I devoted my heart and soul to means nothing anymore. It doesn't matter that I've been married to Eric for a decade. Now, all I want is to find myself again. I decide to accept an invitation from the Parisoir School of Fashion Design. From this moment on, I won't wait for them to come home, and I won't look back.

“ Anika Tara na sa library. Nag hihintay na si attorney enriquez at judge Bala.” Sabi ni Tito loreal “Wait lang po bakit may judge at attorney?” Hindi nila ako pinakinggan dumiretso lang “William follow us” sigaw ng tatay niya. Napatanga nalang ako sa kinatatayuan ko. Hindi rin sumunod agad si William sa parents niya. Umikot siya papaharap sakin. Sobrang lapit niya. Seryoso lang siyang naka titig sa akin. Mas Guwapo pa pala Ito sa malapitan. Kinakabahan na ako mas lumalapit pa siya sa akin habang ako naman na papa atras na. Bumangga ang likod ko sa pader Wala na Akong I aatras. “Alexander What are you doing, you are making me uncomfortable.” “I didn’t do anything. Wait what? What did you called me?” “Alexander?” Kumunot ang noo niya noong inulit Kong sabihan ang pangalan niya. Lumapit siya sakin. Inilapit niya ang bibig niya sa te nga ko. Hindi ako makagalaw sa ginawa niya sobrang tumatambol ang dibdib ko. “I don’t know what our parents are about to, or maybe you already knew and I am not enjoying what is happening!” Bulong niya “ I——don’t know either.” Yon lang ang nasabi ko. Bigla na siyang tumalikod sakin. Iniwan niya akong nakatayo lang doon. What’s with that man? He makes me shivers by his voice. “No! This will not going to happen!” “Tito Enrico do you think I will agree? Of course not!” Pag pasok ko sa loob ng library yon ang una Kong naabutan sumisigaw sa galit si William. May nakita Akong dalawang papel na nakalatag sa lamesa at dalawang singsing. Napatakip ako ng bibig sa nakita ko. Nakatingin silang lahat sa akin Hindi ko alam kung anong nararamdaman ko. Nanginginig ang buo Kong katawan. “I will not marry her. I have a girlfriend” galit paring sabi niya

Sandro was Coreen's first love. Unang beses pa lang niyang nakita ang lalaki sa library ay na love at first sight na siya. Subalit kahit pareho lang dila ng eskwelahan ng lalaki ay hindi siya nagtangkang magpakilala rito ay aminin ang kanyang nararamdaman. Malinaw sa kanya na imposibleng magustuhan ng isang campus crush na si Sandro ang isang tulad niyang wallflower. Nanatili na lamang siyang lihim na humahanfa sa binata. Hanggang sa dalhin siya ng ama sa Greece ay hindi niya nagawang umamin sa binata. Eight years later, bumalik si Coreen sa Pilipinas. She was different from the girl she used to be eight years ago. Isa lang ang hindi nagbago sa kanya. She was madly in love with Sandro Madrigal, her first love. Two months na bakasyon lang ang pakay niya sa Pilipinas subalit nagbago ang lahat ng iyon nang malaman niyan mula sa pinsan ng bestfriend ntang si Miranda na naghahanap si Sandro ng bagong secretary. Itinapon niya ang planong pagbabakasyon sa ibat-ibang panig ng bansa at sa halip ay nag-apply bilang secretary ni Sandro. Itinago niya kay Sandro ang katauhan na anak siya ng isang Greek tycoon. Natanggap siya bilang secretary ni Sandro. Lubusan pa niyang nakilala ang binata at napalapit siya rito. Akala niya, kapag napalapit siya sa binata ay mawawala na ang 'obsession' niya rito. Subalit na iyon ang mangyari ay lalo lang siyang nahulog sa binata. Hanggang sa dumating ang araw na bigla siyang inalok ni Sandro. But his term was "temporary wife". Ayon kay Sandro, kailangan nito ng babaeng papakasalan upang makuha nito ang mana nito. Pumayag siya na maging temporary wife ni Sandro. Hindi niya alam na iyon na pala ang simula ng pagbabago ng buhay niya dahil matapos ang kasal nila ay naaksidente si Sandro at nawala ang ala-ala nito.

On Christmas Eve, my father got the man I had secretly loved for ten years drunk and sent him to my bed. When I woke up the next morning, Roy pulled away from my attempt at a good-morning kiss. His voice was cold and distant as he agreed to marry me. After the wedding, Roy wasted no time submitting a transfer request. He took an overseas post and left. He did not return for five years. I gave birth to our daughter, Eve, alone and waited for him to come back home. When I heard that Roy had finally applied to return to a domestic position, I was overjoyed. I spent days preparing, imagining our first reunion as husband and wife. But even when the clock struck midnight, he still hadn't come home. Our daughter, ever so thoughtful, placed her most treasured possession—a photograph of Roy—into my hands. "Don't cry, Mommy," she said softly. "Look, Daddy's right here." I tried to convince myself that his absence was due to a delayed flight. But later that night, while watching the news, I saw him. He was on a crowded city street, holding a young girl in his arms. Beside him stood a woman, her smile soft and warm. Facing the camera, Roy said, "Being with them is my greatest wish." At that moment, something inside me broke. I wrote up the divorce papers, packed our things, and planned to take Eve to change her identity. I didn't want him anymore. The day before we left, a man I had never met came to see me. He was Roy's father. "You could call me Dad," he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. "But I'd rather you call me Ryan." I told him everything about the past five years—how I had waited, how I had hoped. When I finished, he laughed softly, an unusual warmth in his voice. "If it was just business," he said, "perhaps your father should have tied a bow around me and sent me to your bed instead. But I hold my liquor well—if I ever end up wrapped in a bow, you can be sure it's by choice."