Tonight I Wanna Cry With Lyrics

My family hates me for causing my brother's death. From then on, I become a child no one loves. Meanwhile, my cousin, Evelyn Green, who looks like my brother, becomes the apple of my parents' eyes. From the age of ten to 18, my days are a cycle of beatings and forced apologies. On my 18th birthday, Evelyn wears a gorgeous gown and basks in everyone's adoration, while I'm shoved around in a maid's uniform and hit like I'm not even human. In my darkest moment, Morgan Oakley, the mafia boss, saves me. He takes me home, and step by step, wins his way into my heart. Because of him, I learn what love can feel like. He treats me like a treasure and promises me forever. However, on the day we're supposed to register our marriage, he keeps me waiting for a whole day and night. He never shows up. As I'm about to leave, my phone starts buzzing. A text from Morgan pops up. "Jasmine, I'm sorry. I ran into an enemy and couldn't make it to the city hall. A storm's coming, so make sure you get home quick!" My heart clenches in panic. I'm about to text back and ask if he's okay when Evelyn's message comes right after his. "Jasmine, I'm the one he loves. He skipped marrying you today because of me. You must be devastated, right?" Then, she sends a video. In it, Morgan holds her gently, his voice soft as he comforts her. "Evie, don't cry. You once saved my life, so I'll do anything for you. If you don't want me to marry Jasmine, then I won't. I love you. I only took her in so I could keep her close. That way, she'd be right there when you needed blood." My parents were off to the side. They chimed in tenderly, "Don't cry, Evie. Morgan loves you. He only pursued Jasmine because of your condition. You have a coagulation disorder and need transfusions of Rh-negative blood whenever you get hurt." I stagger back when I hear that, dropping my phone to the ground. So, Morgan's sudden passion is laced with poison. He only pretends to love me just so he can turn me into Evelyn's walking blood bank! Everyone goes to so much trouble to hide the truth from me just so Evelyn doesn't need to suffer from her condition! Rain mixes with my tears as they slide down my face. I stare at my phone on the pavement as bitterness floods me. A thought forms—I want to leave them forever. I want to disappear so they'll never find me again.

I gave birth prematurely, just twenty days before the due date. Two hours after I entered the surgery room, I had a stillborn baby. I did not cry at all. I did not even spare a glance at the dead baby. I endured the pain from childbirth and calmly walked into the hospital nursery. After the door was tightly shut, I turned down the temperature of the air-conditioning. The temperature inside the nursery would be too cold for newborns to bear after an hour. The doctors and parents were begging me on their knees to let their babies live. They screamed and cried. They said I was a mother and hoped that I would understand. Instead, I laughed and said, “Yes, I was a mother. But my baby died!” The gynecologist knelt on the floor and begged, “We may be at fault for not being able to save your baby, but these babies are innocent! “Please don’t be reckless just because you lost your baby! You’re so young. You’ll have more babies in the future.” I gritted my teeth and roared, “But my baby isn’t dead! “She’s still alive. I’ll give you one hour. Bring her back to me!” But I was unsure if she would still be alive after an hour.

All my life, I thought I had it all figured out — the quiet, obedient girl who did what was expected and stayed in the shadows. But life has a way of turning everything upside down. I’ve lived with rules, expectations, and secrets I never dared to speak aloud. I’ve tried to be who everyone wanted me to be, but now… I’m starting to ask myself who I really am. And then there’s Lucas — a presence I can’t ignore, though I’m not sure what he truly means for me. Between past pains, the choices I make, and the life I’m trying to claim for myself, I’m learning that growing up is complicated… and sometimes, it hurts.

Today was like the day I met him: Me, riding a bicycle and him, walking down the pavement. I grab the handle of the bicycle and watch him as he make his way towards me. I do not know why I feel nervous. A trickle of sweat drip on the side of my face, my heart beat fast and I could hardly breathe. He was meters away, until it grow shorter to a foot and then bam, he bumped into me and we fall down, him on top of me. This felt like a deja vù, like it was our very first encounter. We scurried to get up but ended up bumping our heads together. I glared at him as he got up, He didn't even offer me a hand. He didn’t even give me a second glance. He just passed by me. Not noticing me. Not even looking at me. I let go of the bicycle and turn to face him. I remove the helmet that I was wearing and grip it tightly before screaming, “YAH! My hands curled into a fist and before I know it, the helmet I was holding was already flying towards him.I raise my hand as if to save him but it collided on his head right before I could even react. It sounded a hollow thump and a pronounced groan. His hands made his way to the back of his head as he turn and face me. With those eyes that seem like it was murdering me, he chase me off and I hastily took my bicycle and ran. I couldn’t help but feel happy instead of guilty as he ran after me. This was like before. This was like that summer, that summer I met him.

On my birthday, I go out to eat with my family. I make a wish, hoping that we will always stay happily together. When I open my eyes, I see my son, Luigi Marino, holding up his tablet. On the screen, a line of text reads, "Dad, Maria says she's pregnant with your baby. Am I going to get a new mom?" Giovanni Marino is busy taking pictures of me with a Polaroid. He glances at the screen casually before writing a reply on the back of the photo. "No. I made a promise with your mom. If either of us betrays the other, we will have to disappear from the other's life forever. I can't live without your mom. So, you have to help me keep this from her. Even if Maria's baby is born, they will never appear in front of your mom." After writing that, he looks at me and asks in a gentle voice, "What's wrong, my love? Why are your eyes red? Did the smoke from the candles irritate them?" My tears are about to fall, but I force a smile and reply, "I'm fine. The birthday gift you all prepared for me is wonderful. I'm so touched that I can't help but cry." He doesn't know that my dyslexia was cured a week ago. It seems I no longer have to hesitate about the job offer from a well-known international nonprofit that teaches children with dyslexia how to read. The paperwork will be done in seven days. When that time comes, I will disappear from their world completely.

After getting fired from my company, I returned to the countryside, spending my days playing rummy with my grandmother, but my entire family went insane, searching for me everywhere. It was because my younger sister, the family's prodigy jewelry designer, couldn't come up with a single design after I left. In my previous life, at the National Jewelry Design Competition, she managed to produce designs identical to mine before I even finished mine. Everyone assumed I had copied her work. Even my own family testified in her favor. The company accused me of misconduct and plagiarism, claiming my actions had tarnished their reputation. I was fired on the spot and ordered to pay a huge fine. My family, seeing me as nothing but a burden, threw me out of the house. Crushed by the weight of family betrayal and public judgment, I fell into depression, only to be killed on the street by one of my sister's obsessive fans. As my consciousness faded, I couldn't understand why my sister managed to create the exact same design before I did. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day I just signed up for the National Jewelry Design Competition.

A deal between families forced my Fiancé Marco Corvini to marry me. My parents were dead. His obsession was Isabella Falcone, the princess of our rivals. In the end, Marco devoured my family’s empire and threw me to the wolves. He paraded Isabella on his arm like a prize he’d won. Twenty years later, I was on my deathbed. My own son—our son—held the poison. He said I was useless, that his father needed the Falcone family’s power. Then I opened my eyes. I was back. Back on the day of my blood oath. This time, to save my family, I didn’t sign my name on the pact. I signed hers. Isabella Falcone’s. As for me? I took the fortune my parents left me and disappeared. This time, I wouldn’t be the fool bleeding for a man who was never mine.

I married someone two years ago. From then on, I lived a happy life. Thankfully, I did not have to deal with a mother-in-law and did not have to work. I even got two hundred thousand dollars from my husband every month as pocket money. Even my best friends lived the high life because of me. But today, right after I got my allowance, I got a call from the police station. They told me to pick my husband up from there.

I'd been "married" to Zachary for two years—until I tried applying for a loan and the bank's system flagged someone else as his legal wife. Our wedding? Just a private show. The real marriage license had his name next to hers. So yeah. I wasn't the wife. I was the other woman. Crushed, I went home—only to hear Zachary talking to his friend, Ethan, by the door. "Man, watching you stress is exhausting," Ethan said. "You clearly love Sierra. So why marry Cathryn?" Zachary looked torn. "At first, she was just a stand-in. But when she left, I couldn't stop thinking about her. So I brought her back—as my assistant." He paused, then muttered, "I can't live without Sierra. But I can't let go of Cathryn either. So I gave Sierra my love in public and kept Cathryn hidden with the title. That's fair, right?" I stood frozen, heart splitting open. He loved us both. Me—his childhood sweetheart. Her—the hidden wife. I thought I was the one. Turns out, I was just the game. He didn't break my heart. He shattered my whole world. But I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I walked away. And started planning two things.

That night, I got off work early and brought home some late-night snacks. When I opened the door, I saw a pair of high heels carelessly tossed in the entryway and Gregory’s blazer thrown over the couch. His heavy breathing and the woman’s moans could be heard through the gap between the door and its frame. I was all too familiar with this sight. This time, I did not storm out like I used to. Instead, I sat quietly at the dining table and finished my cold pizza.