The Wrong Valentine Novels & Stories

I instantly objected, perturbed that she'd even think of letting that traitor into my private solitude. “You're wrong, Valen,” she spat out, sending me a disgusted look like the sight of me repelled her. “Just like you were wrong about Mercedes.” Her dreary blues crystalized, and every word that came next was laced with enough bitterness and anger to make me flinch. “Just like you promised never to break my heart. Yes, Valen. You were wrong. Just like you ensured that I understand that I don't mean a damn thing to you.”

Her hips were practically perfect, fitting her tall slim figure. She adjusted her shirt properly, and cleared her throat a little trying not to stare at anyone. For hell sake, it was Valentine's day and Sam was being a jerk, how could he not even care when it was also her birthday. Valerie sighed when she looked at the glass of wine. Just one more sip from it, and that would be all. She decided to take just another glass and then leave if he still doesn't show up. Taking the last sip of her wine, Valerie poured a little more quantity inside the glass and dropped the bottle on the table.

he teased, laughing. Valentine smiled quietly from the floor, where she was flipping through some bridal magazines. Neat and efficient she was; her hair was tied back without undue fuss, and her cheeks were blessed with the unmistakable, dyed early-pregnancy hue of cravings. "Tell me about it my love. I swear, finding the right shade for flowers is going to be more difficult than anything I've ever done, Arnulfo." Arnulfo slumped forward, his elbows lying on his knees. "We could always elope you know," he teased, the glint in his dark eyes all too tempting. "Fly somewhere private, just us. No stress, no seating charts, no arguments over what dessert to serve."

But his voice, cold and arrogant, shattered it. "Where are you? Lucy needs a necklace for a banquet. I remember you wore that custom Valentine's piece today. Bring it over quickly." A bitter laugh echoed in my chest, mingling with despair. He killed our child for Lucy Wicker, and now he wanted to take my Valentine's necklace and give it to her? "Do you even remember leaving me alone at the bridal studio?" I asked. Caught off guard, Mike paused for a moment before replying curtly, "Are you seriously holding a grudge over that? Wedding photos can be taken any time. Why are you being so petty?"

Today was Valentine's Day, and I wanted my husband to take a day off. "Stay home with me," I said. "Valentine's Day is the best time to make money," he replied, turning away. As he stepped out the door, he casually reminded me, "Call me if anything happens." I had planned to wait for him to come back, but at some point, I drifted off to sleep. When I woke, it wasn't to the sound of him returning—it was the pain that pulled me out of my daze. Cold sweat soaked my face as I gasped for air.

He also said I needed to stay in a good mood, be careful with my diet and medication, and take good care of myself. Next to the medical report were two plane tickets for a seven-day trip to Isvalia. I initially planned to tell her on Valentine's Day, so I could relax with her before the surgery. Now, that was no longer needed. Nancy rushed back with the first-aid kit and rifled through it a few times before stopping. "Where's the ointment? Did you…" She cut herself off halfway through. I caught the fleeting expression on her face—guilt mixed with a hint of unease.

“You’re right. I just wish things didn’t have to be so complicated.” Kurtis brushed a kiss across my forehead, his voice low and full of warmth. “No matter what happens, baby girl, I’ve got you. Always.” I rested my head against his chest, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calm me. “I love you, Kurtis.” “I love you too, more than anything,” he whispered, his lips brushing against my hair. The party continued around us, the lights twinkling, the music playing, but in my heart, I knew that something had shifted. Tonight was supposed to be perfect, and it was, except for the one person who wasn’t there. Angela.

She got married because he wanted her to, and as soon as he saw the marriage certificate, he slapped her. Ed thumped his chest and stomped his feet, "Yes, I asked you to get married, but I didn't ask you to marry the person you like. The person you should marry is Timothy Ryder, the small business owner of H Group!" Valeria was stunned. Timothy Ryder?! Shane Hunter?! I misidentified these two people? Moreover, she got married to the wrong person! What on earth happened? Valeria was becoming bewildered. Was there a mistake? When she saw her stepmother's gloating look, she knew that today had gone completely wrong.

I murmured, while I lifted a glass filled with vodka, as soon as the vodka found its way down my throat, my face turned squeezed, like someone who had tested aloe vera juice. I'm not getting any better! “Am I not deliberately punishing myself with this? What else can I do to lose the memory of this heartbreak?” I asked while gulping more vodka! My five years with Miguel were just a waste. He never loved me. He should have made this known to me earlier. Not promise to marry me only for him to shatter my heart on all other days but on my wedding day! “Am I supposed to let it chill?” Like a flash, the purple gown Linda was wearing on that day of my miserable and unrealistic wedding looked the s

I was shaking all over with anger, gripping my phone so tightly it felt like it might crack in my hand. The post was still gaining traction, and the comment section was filled with filth—vile, disgusting words that were hard to even read. "Girls these days really know how to play. Valentine’s Day with no protection, just chasing thrills." "She looks so innocent. Didn’t expect her to be this wild, roleplaying the whole ‘sister-brother’ thing."