Too Many Tears Novels & Stories

After a monthlong cold war, Liesel Sharp is in the hospital when she receives word of her husband throwing a welcome-back party for his true love. When she returns home, Jacob Ford hands her a divorce agreement. "She's back, so let's divorce." "Alright." The past three years have been nothing but a farce. This time, Liesel is really out of hope for him. After the divorce, Jacob sees articles about Liesel everywhere. She's out and about with a new man; she's also a rising star in the business world. She's everywhere he looks. Finally, Jacob, who has always been arrogant and proud, gives in. "Have you had enough? It's time to come home with me. Please." Liesel acts like she doesn't hear him. Later, he resorts to hanging around outside her home day and night. This changes one day when the door opens, and a man looks at him with a mocking smile. "Lili's tired, Mr. Ford. She doesn't have time to enjoy your pitiful act."

My little sister, Maya, got into a car crash. I put her in a high-end recovery center. Her injuries were bad. Progress crawled. They kept extending her treatment, one phase at a time. Early this morning, the manager called. Said the card wouldn't cover the next phase. That's when it hit me—peak season at the company. I'd been slammed, barely breathing. I hadn't topped it up in forever. I told her I'd transfer the money. She shut it down. Said I had to show up and sign in person before they'd extend anything. So after work, I rushed over. Straight into rush hour traffic. Then she called again. "Ms. Keyne, your balance hit zero three minutes ago. We're terminating services. This is a premium facility—we don't do free care. The patient tied to your account has been removed per policy."

I was the real son, finally found and brought back by my billionaire parents, only to be diagnosed with leukemia right after. The only person who matched my bone marrow was the adopted son, Doug Daniel. So my parents rushed to bring him back into the family, making him my donor. To make it up to him, they did everything they could for him. My parents handed over the inheritance. My fiancée, Moira Stevens, hovered around him every day. When the pain got so bad that I could barely stand it, my parents pointed at me and snapped, "Jay! You keep bringing up your illness. Are you really that eager to take away Doug's health?" Moira, a medical school professor, didn't hold back either. "I'm a doctor. You think I don't understand your condition? You act like you're dying every single day. You just can't stand that we're being nice to Doug." On the day of the transplant, I lay on the operating table and waited. But Moira, the one in charge of harvesting Doug's marrow, never came in. I closed my eyes and waited for death. None of them knew I had already signed up to donate my body.

I was only 17, dreaming of building a life far away from my suffocating town, away from my dishonest family. My mother lived off scams, and I refused to be part of it. But just before I turned 18, my world fell apart. I was pregnant! And not just by anyone, but by the richest, cruelest man to ever set foot in my small town. The worst part? We had never even met. Now, I have to fight for something I never had: a chance to rewrite my own fate.

Bethany Cole and Shane Stafford were supposed to get married in two weeks, but Shane was thinking about postponing the wedding again. It was all because his stepsister, Yelena White, had another episode and was crying for him to drop everything and take her to Maldivea to see the ocean. The wedding had been planned for two years, and Bethany had had enough. If Shane did not want to get married, she would find someone else to take his place.

BLURB For sixteen years, Skylar Adams built a man who slowly destroyed her. At 36, she is invisible in her own home, mocked by her children, controlled by her mother-in-law, and betrayed by the husband she sacrificed everything for. Jason Lawrence didn’t just cheat. He erased her. But the day she reaches her breaking point becomes the day everything changes. Zane Lawson,the man she once saved years ago steps back into her life. Powerful, composed, and quietly devoted, he offers her something unfamiliar: safety… and a chance to become herself again. As Skylar rebuilds her life, Jason is forced to watch the woman he broke become the woman he can no longer reach. And when he finally wants her back… It’s too late.

When her perfect marriage shatters overnight, a brilliant architect is left with nothing but betrayal—and a name dragged through the mud. Branded a liar, cast aside by the man who vowed to protect her, she disappears… and reinvents herself. Years later, she returns—sharper, colder, and far more dangerous. Now a fearless corporate whistleblower, she sets her sights on the powerful empire her ex-husband built, determined to tear it down piece by piece. Secrets will be exposed. Lies will burn. And this time, she’s the one in control. But as the truth begins to unravel, so do the walls around her heart. Because the deeper she digs, the more she realizes not everything was as it seemed… and revenge might cost her more than she ever intended. In a game of power, betrayal, and redemption—will she destroy him… or find her way back to love?

My boyfriend, Liam Sterling, has a female friend, Lyra Kensington, who’s always been far too comfortable crossing lines. On our anniversary, she gifted him an alarm clock, leaning in to whisper loud enough for me to hear, “For timing. I’m afraid he won’t last.” At our engagement party, she sauntered over with a self-satisfied smirk and handed him a box of extra-small condoms as her engagement gift. The day finally came when Liam proposed to me. But just before we were supposed to register the marriage, Liam dropped the truth: “Lyra needs a nominal father for her baby, but I will marry you in eight months.” No one doubts that I would be as devoted as ever to wait another eight months. After all, I’ve already spent seven years by his side. But at that very night, I accepted my family’s plan abroad and vanished from Liam’s world forever.

It has been 99 times that Henry and I have filed the application for divorce and then withdrawn it. Each time before finalizing the divorce, Henry always waits for me to humbly beg him to stay married. I turned down the offer to be the chief composer at a famous studio in Vienna because Henry didn't want a long-distance relationship. I deleted all my male friends because Henry didn't want me to be too friendly to them. I stopped wearing red lipstick, composing, and traveling alone, because he said married women should stay at home instead of being impulsive. Only after I finally manage to appease him will he allow me to withdraw the divorce application. After my 100th divorce application, as I was leaving, the deputy clerk asked me curiously: "So, when are you going to withdraw your application this time?" I looked at Henry's cold back in front of me, forced to smile with tears, and told myself in my heart— This time, there will be no withdrawal of the application. After the 30-day cooling-off period, we'll be officially divorced. But why did his love only find its voice when I had already walked away?

I died on the day I won the Global Medical Doctorate Award. Fresh from celebrating the sixteenth birthday of my younger sister, my parents, brother, and my fiancé finally returned home, but it was three hours after my death. My family photos were beaming with happiness on social media, while I laid in the suffocating basement drenched in blood. Before I died, I had struggled to slide my tongue across my phone screen in a desperate attempt to call for help. My parents and brother had blocked my number. Only my fiancé answered my call. The moment his voice came through, he snapped, "Winona, Winnie's sixteenth birthday is important. Stop trying to hijack attention with your pathetic excuses. Enough with the theatrics!" It murdered my last spark of survival. In that electronic death rattle, my heart flatlined. The 100th time they chose her. The 100th time they abandoned me for her. But it was also the last time. They thought I had ran way to get their attention again, and that if they taught me a harsh lesson, I would come crawling back pathetically. But not this time. Because I didn't leave home. I had been lying in the basement of my house.