Unspeakable Water Bottle Novels & Stories

Three years ago, my girlfriend suffered severe post-traumatic stress after saving my life. She later had a speech impairment that kept her from speaking normally. To cure her, I take on three jobs a day and survive on only bread and water just to come up with the money for her therapy and speech recovery treatment. I happen to be working part-time as a cocktail party waiter one evening when I see my girlfriend, who supposedly has a speech impairment, standing in a fancy dress and being fawned over by the crowd around her. Everyone is calling her "Ms. Holden" and "the heiress of the Holden family". But how can an orphan like her possibly be an heiress?

Ember Collins is on the lookout for jobs when a marriage proposition arises with NY's renowned billionaire Hunter William King. While she is kind, brave and quirky, he is heartless, cold and dangerous. She is like water calming souls when touches, and he is like a tornado destroying everything on his way when passes. They are like the opposite sides of a knife; one is harmless and another cuts. What happens when they're bound in an unholy matrimony? What happens when the secret behind the marriage is revealed? Will love bloom in the most unexpected place or will it wither away in the labyrinthine of lies and deception? Join Ember's journey through love and hate, danger and despair to see what happens.

“Imagine if both your wife and your lover fell into the water at the same time—who would you save first?” Upon remembering what her friend had said a few days ago, Myra felt her heart ache; it was so acute that it threatened to suffocate her. She stood stiffly in the banquet hall while the exquisite knee-length blue dress she wore was glued to her wet body, making her like a drowned rat. When the company employees in the hall saw her, they began to whisper and snicker among themselves. She did not have to eavesdrop to know what they said about her. “She’s trying to climb the corporate ladder by sleeping with the director…”

The day I walked into that house, I knew I walked right into hell. The same dude that splashed me water on the streets, turned out to be my step brother at my mom's house. It didn't end there, he had the guts to torment me, broke my violin when I was preparing for my audition and somehow, still saved me. At some point, I don't know what he wants again, but I know he's a psycho for sure. However, everything changed after that night, that kiss and now, I'm left wondering where I stand? I keep asking myself, can I love my own devil?

"Just join me for a drink perhaps?" Her bushy brows rose suggestively at me. She knew my answer, she knew what I'd say. I grabbed the bottle off her scrawny hands and said "You know, for a one time thing, this has become a regular." To be honest, I was actually looking forward to meeting up with her. Not that I was going to admit it to her face. "Like therapy sessions from two dumb, ill-favored kids. Who are trying to give each other easing words." She was right. Though her stumbled movements indicated a slight intoxication. Suddenly, out of the awkward moment, she looked up at me with a sad smile and said. "I might be a street girl but is it too bad to wish for a normal life? Go to proms? Have new clothes? Shelter? Love? Do I not deserve?" Her teary eyes searched deep into my soul. I was unaware of the lack of distance between us. When did we get so close with barely an inch barrier? "Flare..." that was all I could say because then all I could feel were soft lips against mine. Her lips! And it felt so nice. Subconsciously, I grabbed her little body and went for another kiss, this time, a deeper kiss.

My flight was suddenly canceled, so I dragged my suitcase back home. As soon as I stepped inside, I saw torn black stockings scattered on the floor. This was the eighth time Simon Jones had brought a different woman home. The sound of running water and a young woman’s laughter echoed from the bathroom. I didn’t cry or make a scene. Instead, I sat quietly on the couch, waiting for them to finish. Everyone assumed I would continue being Simon’s devoted fool like before. But no one knew that the man I truly loved had returned. After tonight, Simon, the stand-in, would be discarded.

I'd been married to Joshua Merck for five years, but we still didn't have kids. To stay healthy, I took those pricey custom vitamins he ordered from overseas—never missed a dose. Then my cousin came back from studying abroad, took one look at the bottle, and was like, "That brand doesn't even make custom vitamins." I sent them to the hospital for testing. The lab report hit me like a truck—birth control pills. Powerful ones. Suddenly, all those mornings with Joshua hovering over me, acting so concerned while I took my "vitamins," made sense. The whole thing had been a lie. Five years of lies. Just as I was gearing up to confront him, my phone buzzed—a group chat notification. Shirley Hoare had tagged Joshua. [Honey, I had a prenatal checkup today, and the doctor said I'm carrying twins! Your family's about to get two grandchildren at once—excited?] My heart turned to ash. Everything clicked. Fine. We were done. I pulled out my phone and replied to my childhood sweetheart's message from three days ago: [After watching the northern lights, I still wanted to see penguins in Antarctica.]

When Alexander Smith stands in front of me and says he's going to marry someone else, that's when I realize he's been reborn too. I remember our 20 years of love in our past life. A plane crash. And then, rebirth. "This is to save Sophia," he says. "In our past life, she was sold to a Vostmark oligarch after her father's political scandal. Not long after, she took her own life due to abuse. I can't let that tragedy happen again, so I need to get engaged to her." As he speaks, he hands me an orange prescription bottle. "If you take this, you'll forget me for a little while. You won't feel the pain. It's just seven days. Once her father's scandal blows over, you'll stop the medication and your memory will return. Then I'll end the engagement and officially propose to you." I stare at the bottle, knowing it's a lie. Not the part about Sophia's suicide. The lie is about the drug. He thinks it only causes temporary memory loss. But I know better. The suppressant causes permanent damage to emotional memory. The seven-day countdown isn't the time it takes for my memories to return. It's the time it takes for my love for him to die.

DISCLAIMER; BOYxBOY, erotic and 18+ only. “I will just drink my beer here, it is what I always do,” That is a lie, Caleb would probably be banging a blonde by now, now he was trying to act cool, he is just another piece of shit that I would enjoy cracking. “That would be dumb, won’t it?” I asked, seductively, walking closer to him. “Wh…what the fuck are you doing?” he asked as I slammed him to the wall. The party is filled with a bunch of horny teenagers, nobody gives a fuck what you do. “Making your evening eventful,” I whispered into his ear before biting his earlobe. The bottle of beer fell from his hands as he tried to push me off. “Stop…p, I’m not gay,” he wiggled, and that was just making me horny as fuck. “But you like it,” I chuckled, still licking his earlobe, as my hands went underneath his shirt. I pinched his nipple hard and his eyes rolled back. “No… I… don’t,” he lied but it came out as moans, making me smile. Caleb Mike didn't know he was gay till Ralph Landon came along, but Ralph just wanted to take revenge on Caleb for breaking his sister’s heart. Would he end up falling in love?

I waited ten years to get married to Emily Stanton. We had applied for a marriage license seven times, and seven times it had been called off. In our circle, we were the golden couple. She had sold her own blood to help cover my hospital bills, and I had stood by her side as she built the Stanton family empire from nothing. On our tenth anniversary, I brought up the idea of finally having a wedding ceremony and making things official again. She just rubbed her temples and tossed her blazer aside. "We'll talk about it later. We've been together this long—why are you still hung up on something like this?" The words I wanted to say got stuck in my throat. Does every great love eventually fade into something ordinary? The sound of running water came from the bathroom. Then her phone buzzed with a notification. Against my better judgment, I picked it up. The contact name on the screen was impossible to miss: Honey. [Baby, when are you coming home? Jamie says she misses Mommy.] A storm of emotions crashed over me. That's when I discovered Emily Stanton had another WhatsApp account. The woman in those posts was nothing like the one I knew. At the top was a wedding photo—the two of them beaming, radiant. Tucked among the roses she'd received yesterday was a brand-new diamond ring, hidden between the petals. The water in the bathroom stopped. I clenched my fists. Then I forwarded the guy's WhatsApp info to my assistant. [Look into him.]