The Way I Do Bishop Briggs

Helena Graves loved her husband the way most women only dream of being loved. Quietly. Completely. Without ever asking for more than he chose to give. For two years she built a home around Damian Graves, believing patience was enough to keep a marriage alive. Until the day his college ex, Camila Calloway, moved back to Velmont and everything changed. The late nights. The distant eyes. The phone he would not put down. Then came the words Helena never saw coming. “I want a divorce.” She signs the papers with dignity and walks away without begging to be chosen. What Damian does not expect is that losing her becomes the beginning of her rise. A chance audition turns into an acting career. The quiet wife he overlooked becomes a woman the whole city cannot stop watching. Confident. Desired. Unapologetically becoming. Meanwhile, the life he thought he wanted begins to unravel. Nostalgia fades. Regret settles in. And for the first time, Damian realizes he did not leave an ordinary woman. He left the love of his life. Now he wants her back. But Helena is no longer waiting. The Wife I Forgot to Love is an emotional second chance marriage crisis romance about divorce, regret, and the dangerous moment when a man realizes her worth only after someone else does.

The operation had just gone dark when the chatter started in the comms. “Easy, Zane. Don’t burn through another mattress.” A low laugh came through the headset. Relaxed. Careless. “I’ve been deployed for six months. I needed the release. And don’t let my wife hear that.” More laughter. “Right. Take care of the little mistress first, then call home and play devoted husband?” My phone rang. His voice when I answered was warm. Intimate. Soft in a way it never was on the field. He said he missed me. Said he counted the days until he could come home. I watched the live drone feed while he said it. What he didn’t know was that three months ago, I had quietly transferred into the family’s Strategic Intelligence division. Every operation his crew ran, I was the one behind the monitors—tracking shipments, rerouting safehouses, intercepting rival signals, listening to every word spoken over secured lines. The first night he slept with her, I logged the timestamp. 00:43 hours. When the call ended, I dialed another number—encrypted, family internal. “I’ll accept your offer,” I said calmly. “After this job, I’m stepping away.” The voice on the other end was steady. Controlled. Powerful. “You’ll leave after the Palermo Capture,” he replied. “I’ll personally see to your relocation.” A pause. “Three days.”

I'd loved my childhood friend, Colleen Decker, for ten years, until a car accident changed everything. She loses the ability to walk and never stands again. Her fiance, Ronald Coleman, and other self-proclaimed admirers disappear overnight. Even the Decker family turns their backs on her, cutting her off as the heiress. I'm the only one who stays by her side. I drop out of school and spend two years caring for her, doing everything I can to find the best specialists in the country. However, the moment she gets back on her feet—during the proposal I'd prepared—she announces in front of everyone that she's continuing her engagement to Ronald. When I confront her, Colleen grabs my hand, her voice soft and earnest. "Lucius, I'm not doing this because I want to. I'm marrying him to get back at him for walking away from me back then. You have to believe me. I only love you." But during a game of Truth or Dare, Ronald draws the King card. He points at me and says, "Lucius, choose any girl here and kiss her for one minute." I look to Colleen for help, but she turns her head away. "Don't look at me. I belong to Ronald now."

I followed an account of a couple that was not very popular but was very sweet. The account recorded every detail of the account owner and her boyfriend. They would argue over a plate of pasta and then look at each other and smile, playfully calling the other person a child at heart. They would hug tightly under the starry sky on a mountain top and say that they wished time could stop at this moment. Although the account owner never showed her face, I was still touched by her captions. The account was updated again the day before I was getting married. [Ten years of love ends here. From now on, he's just her husband, and I'm just her best friend. This account will no longer be updated. I wish my best friend and her beloved man a happy ever after.] The photo showed my fiancé, Josh Clark, and me, taken from behind.

This is a thrilling and suspenseful romance story of a young adult guy by name Joshua who falls in love with the nanny his mom hired to take care of his younger sister - keeping his affair with her a secret, away from the prying eyes of his parents until something happens that threatens to reveal him.

Three months after Pete took his foster sister as his mistress, I terminated my marriage, chose to die on paper, and vanished from his life entirely. One quiet morning, I handed my child over to the nannies arranged by the family and walked out of the Rizzuto estate alone. Pete didn’t chase after me that day. He believed I would come back. Once I had calmed down, I would lower my head. The following spring, I was diagnosed with cancer. Standing in the hospital corridor, I suddenly remembered years ago— Pete had taken my hand and said, “You’ll be the finest Donna this Rizzuto family has ever had.” What pulled me back was not Pete. It was a letter from Sicily. Thin paper. Cold, rigid handwriting—the kind favored by old families who had ruled too long to bother with sentiment. “The heir has begun showing signs of emotional instability.” “Recent violent behavior has caused internal concern.” “There is disagreement within the family regarding the current Don’s judgment.” In the mafia world, there is only one reason the elders would bypass a man and reach out to a wife officially presumed dead— When the family itself begins to lose balance. So I returned. To the place I had once fled with everything I had. This time, there were no illusions. I no longer placed any hope in emotion. I was there only to fulfill the obligations of the family. I knew exactly how much time I had left. And I knew exactly what needed to be done. I became a proper Donna.

Kim Evelyn—known to those closest to her as Ivy—never imagined her third wedding anniversary would turn into a nightmare. Her husband, Rico, didn’t just betray her—he brought his mistress into their bed. The pain and humiliation scorched her heart, leaving her no choice but to walk away from the home that once symbolized their love. But Ivy’s escape led her into a night that would change everything. Beneath the glimmering lights of an upscale bar, she met Joshua Miller—a dangerously charming man with a captivating smile and an offer too tempting to resist. Revenge. Sweet, calculated revenge. But there was a catch: Ivy had to surrender herself to a game far more seductive than anything she’d ever imagined. As vengeance ignited and passion flared, the line between game and reality began to blur. Dark secrets loomed. Hidden dangers stirred. And Ivy was forced to make an impossible choice—move forward and risk losing everything, or retreat into the scars of her past. Can Ivy take control of this wicked game? Or will she end up the pawn—consumed by desire, ambition, and a betrayal more dangerous than the one she fled?

Before the marking ceremony, Leon Parker crossed out his name on the Moonlight Tree. Then, he carved his brother Cillian Parker's name next to mine instead. A friend teased him, "Just because you lost a bet to Susie Burton, you're changing the name on the Moonlight Tree to Cillian's? Aren't you afraid Madison Lachlan will find out and lose it on you?" Leon replied lazily, "She nearly died for me once. Changing a name is nothing; she won't mind. I've already ruined her marking ceremony 52 times. What's one more? Besides, Cillian's leg is injured, and he's stuck in a wheelchair. No woman would ever want to be with him. Once Madison finds out, she'll come crawling back to me, and I'll still have the upper hand." I stood by the door, listening to every word of their conversation as my heart gradually turned cold. The Moonlight Tree was sacred to all werewolves. Every mated pair carved their names into it, symbolizing the Moon Goddess's blessing on their bond. Yet, Leon was treating something so sacred like it was a joke. I did not make a scene, just slipping away silently. On the day of the marking ceremony, Leon arrived at the venue to find no one there. He frantically called me. I stood in my white wedding dress, looking at my mate across from me. "My marking ceremony is about to start. Are you here to congratulate me on my big day?"

I had been married to Derek for six years, and we had a three-year-old son. He was poor, earning only $2,000 a month, but I had no complaints; I took care of everything at home for him. After getting dinner on the table for the whole family, I finally had a minute to check my phone. A video popped up on my feed: a twenty-two-year-old girl from a rural area whose hands, roughened by years of hard labor, looked like they belonged to a sixty-two-year-old woman. I looked down at my own hands, just as worn and scarred, and stared at them blankly before tapping into the comments. I expected people to feel bad for her. However, to my surprise, the comments section was flooded with a single sentiment: "Why would anyone marry a penniless loser?" One of the top-liked comments came from a couple; in their photo, they were pictured holding hands—fingers tightly intertwined—with the girl sporting a massive diamond ring. The accompanying caption read: "A man who truly loves you would never bear to let you suffer." I felt a pang of envy. Given the choice, who wouldn't want a glamorous life? As I was about to close the app, I accidentally tapped on the couple's photo, enlarging it. In the background, previously too blurry to make out, was a face I recognized. It looked exactly like my husband, Derek Sterling. I froze, and almost against my will, I tapped into the account's profile. Post after post of lavish photos of them together flooded my screen. And then I saw him clearly. The scar above his brow, the one he got when a shelf fell on him while protecting me, was still plainly visible. It was my husband. It was Derek.

Being the best is a requirement for me. When it comes to this, I am the best. Unlike others, I can move quickly. As for me, I'm quite robust. I have a high IQ. Many professional teams are interested in signing me because I am the starting goalkeeper for my high school's soccer squad. My teammates will follow my every order as long as I am captain. Girls urge me to add them to my list of s*x partners. To avoid my father's anger, I just need to make it to the professional league and play for the best team in the world. I am Williams Phanuel, and I have made sure that everything in existence is centered on me. I've got my eye on the new girl in class; it'll only be a matter of time until she succumbs to my charms. This one is more obstinate than others; she won't even give me her name. She has a sharp mind, too. Perhaps too witty for his own good. I simply cannot admit her. No one will get past me. Despite my lack of concern, I must admit that she is distracting me from my objective. Your father will not approve of that. Do I need to reiterate how much I adore the works of William Shakespeare? I'm aware of that. To put it simply, I am a paradox in human form. There are "some born great," "some who make great," and "those who have greatness thrust upon them," as Shakespeare put it. I managed to acquire all three! No one can ever hope to measure up to that.