Very Punny

Loving someone at the wrong time is a big mistake. However, persisting in a situation that is not possible, is also not the right choice. Dinda just wants to fight for her happiness, and punish all those who have sinned against her. Then go from that sad place to a faraway place. Meet a good man, and live happily. But to break all that, Dinda had to go through one battle first.

Even though I knew cows were sacred to the Indorians, I still supported their biological daughter in her plan to serve beef at the dinner table of Indoria's wealthiest man. In my previous life, the wealthiest man in Indoria had held a nationwide contest to choose a wife. My sister had fought her way to the final round and planned to make a beef and veggie stew for the ultimate cooking challenge. I rushed to stop her, warning that in Indoria's religion, cows were considered holy, and eating beef could have serious legal consequences. However, my sister thought I was deliberately humiliating her for being "uncultured." In a fit of anger, she ran out, only to be struck and killed by a car. My adoptive parents tried to console me, telling me it was not my fault, that it was simply bad luck. Later, thanks to my exceptional cooking skills, I became the wife of Indoria's wealthiest man. Yet on the very day of my wedding, my adoptive parents sold me to the slums. That night, as eight men assaulted me one after another, I cried and demanded to know why. They kicked me viciously and spat: "If you hadn't made things difficult for Janet, she wouldn't have died. You owe her this!" By the end of that night, I had bled to death. Meanwhile, my adoptive parents used the money given by Indoria's wealthiest man to build a lavish tomb for their biological daughter. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day my sister was about to serve her beef and veggie stew to Indoria's wealthiest man.

On the day that was supposed to be my wedding—the bride wasn’t me. The ceremony I’d waited for five years for turned into a joke when Valentina, my sister, walked down the marble aisle in a white wedding dress. Her arm was linked with Luca’s — the man who was supposed to be waiting for me at the altar. “I’m sorry, Bianca,” she said softly. “But you are no longer the bride today.” Then she touched her stomach, eyes gleaming with triumph. “I’m pregnant with Don Romano’s child.” Her words detonated inside my skull, and the whole world went silent. As if afraid I wouldn’t believe her, she lifted something glossy up towards the light. A black-and-white ultrasound image. It read clearly: Gestational age — 12 weeks. My eyes burned, tears stinging as I turned to Luca, desperately searching for anything—a denial, an explanation, regret. Instead, he only sighed, weary and resigned. “Bianca, I’m sorry.” he said helplessly. “Valentina doesn’t have much time left. This wedding… it was her last wish.” “I’ll make it up to you,” he added. “We can have another wedding later.” My father, Moretti, stood behind him, wearing the same stern expression he’d worn my entire life. I have never seen him smile at me, not even once. “Bianca,” he said sharply, “Your sister is dying. Let her have this.” My brother nodded without saying a single word, as if that was enough to be a solid answer. All my life, they had chosen her—her tears, her whims, her needs—over mine. Today was no different. Something inside me quietly cracked. Fine. If no one in this family cares about me, I’ll leave.

The first time I met him, he was lying in the recovery room after surgery, looking weak and lifeless. But strangely, my heart skipped in a way I hadn't felt in three years. I tried to act professional, but every time I stood beside him to check his vital signs or give his medications, my heart reacted in ways I couldn't explain. I couldn't even look him in the face without feeling shy. One small moment led to another until I finally gathered the courage to ask him for his number. But as his recovery improved and his discharge day approached, I couldn't stop asking myself one question: Would our story end at the hospital, or was this just the beginning?

Vladimir Drake Dela Peña, known for being dedicated to his profession. He was pictured perfect man like a statue of Greek God Apollo. Gwapo. Matalino. Edukado. Dalubhasa sa larangan ng medisina pero weak naman pagdating sa usaping pag-ibig. Jennica Arevalo, she was considered as the hope of their home. Gagawin ang lahat mabigyan lamang ng magandang buhay ang pamilya. Family matters first than love. Connected by their professions. United by devotions. Partnered by missions. Will love tied them up by their passions? Paano kung dahil sa aksidente’y mawala ang memorya ng isa. Maaalala kaya ng puso ang kaniyang tinatangi? Soon!

"How can you say that about me, Nathan? I never had a kid!" Aaron Fuller protests. My wife, Jenny Green, stands protectively in front of him. "That's enough! You can't slander Aaron just because you're jealous of him. Just you wait, Nathan. I haven't settled the score with you for calling Aaron this afternoon and insulting him!"

On the first day of her marriage, Lyra Leighton told her CEO husband, Wesley Cheswick, "I don't care if you fall for someone else later. But if she ever shows up in front of me, you'll never see me again." So when he did fall for a schoolteacher, he kept her tucked away. Gave her everything she wanted. Everything except permission to cross Lyra. But the side chick got bold on his affection and ignored the line. She showed up with a baby bump and shoved it in Lyra's face. "Wesley said it himself. He never loved you. He married you for your family's status. Know your place. Get an abortion and divorce him. Now. Otherwise, when Wesley dumps you, you won't get a dime." Lyra smiled and called her father. "Pull the investment from Cheswick Tech. I'm getting a divorce."

Four days after my death, my four-year-old daughter finally sensed that something was terribly wrong. The fridge door slammed into her forehead when she tried to get a snack. Normally, I would've been there in a heartbeat—arms open, kisses ready, whispering, "You're okay, sweetheart, Mommy's here." But this time, I just lay on the bed, cold and still.​ She didn't understand. She thought the sweet treat would make me respond. So she held the final piece of chocolate up to my mouth. "Here, Mommy. Have some chocolate..." But I didn't even blink. She climbed into my arms, clutching my clothes tightly. "Mommy... Mommy, wake up..." She waited for me to stroke her hair, to tell her that everything was going to be fine. There was only silence.​ Completely lost and scared, she found my phone. "Daddy, why is Mommy still sleeping?" she asked, her voice filled with desperation.​ In response, Oliver sent a photo of himself having Christmas Eve dinner with his childhood sweetheart. His voice was icy cold when he replied, "She's just sleeping, not dead. It's Christmas Eve, and I'm busy. Tell her to stop playing games and come apologize when she's done sulking." Then he hung up.​ But when the truth finally hit Oliver—when the coroner's report came, when the police knocked on his door right in the middle of his laughter, when he realized I'd been lying dead for four days while he toasted—he broke.

During summer break, I took my son, Luke Thorne, diving at our private beach. Ralph Foster, a hotshot TV actor, suddenly showed up with a whole entourage and barged in. "This is a private beach that Gloria personally secured for me to entertain VIPs. You two nobodies had better get lost right now!" He threw his weight around and even dragged my wife, Gloria Stokes, out as a threat. When he learned who I was, he went a step further and mocked me as a kept man living off my wife. I actually laughed. I was the head of the Thornes, the most powerful family in Frenkinston. Since when did I become some freeloading, useless husband? On top of that, Gloria's film studio and every bit of her backing came from me. But when Gloria arrived, she sided with Ralph and actually tried to force Luke to put on a show for some sleazy investors. Sneering, I made a call that only the head of the Thornes had the authority to make. "Shark Vanguard, clear Crescent Bay. Now."

"I despise everything about him," Ayisha Duffel always says whenever her path crosses with Kian, the Academy's heir and campus crush. They don't get along, just like cats and dogs. Their relationship is perfect when they are on campus, but when they are outside the campus, they despise each other to the moon and back. How did it all start? Why has it gotten to the point where the relationship has already been contracted? Will they be real in real life? Will they truly love one another? But what if you know that the person you're learning to love's life is in danger? Can you give up your life for him/her? Come on in and let's figure everything out together.