Novel & Cerita When I Disappeared, He Regretted It

My mate bond with Alpha Ronan of the Blackthorne Pack had failed thirty-two times. I thought the Moon Goddess did not bless us. I thought if I endured a little longer, loved him a little harder, the next time would finally work. Until the thirty-third rite. Then the fire swallowed me whole. When I woke in the healers’ hall, my body was broken, my Moonborn Core was damaged. Only then did I hear Ronan speaking to his Beta outside the door. “If you love Selene that much, then sever the claim with Elara. The Blackthorne Pack can silence any rumor. Why keep staging accidents?” “She almost died,” his Beta said. “Ten years ago, the Alpha of Nightvale and his mate died saving me. This bond is how I repay that debt.” “I never wanted Nightvale’s bloodline chained to mine.” “The woman I love is Selene.” That was when I finally understood. The Moon Goddess had never rejected us. Ronan had. He saw my parents’ sacrifice as a chain around his neck. He saw Nightvale’s Moonborn bloodline as a cage built to trap him. And he would never know— the fire he arranged had already taken the child I carried. The true black-core heir Blackthorne had waited generations for. If Ronan hated this bond so much, I would give him what he wanted. I would sever the claim myself.

On our fifth dating anniversary, my boyfriend, Luke Bolton, gives me a cheap bracelet worth less than a hundred dollars. On the same night, he splurges ten million dollars on a yacht for his first love, Cindy Gale. I refuse to accept this, and he accuses me of making a scene. "I gave Cindy that gift to boost the company's stock price, not because I still have feelings for her," he says. "You're poor, and I still promised to marry you. Isn't that enough? This was actually your last test, Elisa Gray, but you failed it." I break up with him, and he immediately proposes to Cindy. Five years after that, we meet again at a luxury hotel during a business summit. His company is about to become an industry giant, and Cindy is holding onto his arm. When he sees me, I'm standing in a fountain, all drenched and disheveled. "Elisa," Luke sneers. "When you turned me down back then, did it ever cross your mind that you might end up worse than a homeless person? "Don't think acting pitiful here will make me feel sorry and take you back." I ignore him. My son's cherished blue diamond was a birthday gift from his father, and he accidentally dropped it into the fountain. He's so upset that he's about to cry, and I have to find it right away.

Ever since I tied the knot with Connor Steele, he ditched his playboy ways and cut off all his side flings. Everyone thought I had him wrapped around my finger, with our perfect little family. But that all came crashing down on our ninth anniversary when I accidentally saw his group chat with his friends. [Connor, how was that Bentley ride with Ashley yesterday? Pretty wild, huh?] [We tried every spot imaginable. She's totally obsessed with me and can't get enough.] There was a steamy photo of them attached, and the group was blowing up with cheers and congrats, wishing them happiness ever after. I stared at the screen, feeling a sharp stab of pain hit me right in the chest. It turned out that all our happy moments were just a carefully staged performance. I sat there in a daze all night, waiting for him to get home. When he finally walked in with a cake, I let out a cold laugh. "I know everything now. Aren't you sick of faking it?"

On our tenth anniversary, I came home with roses and the biggest deal of my career. I expected celebration. Instead, I found my husband in bed with my cousin. They looked at me like I was the one who had interrupted something that mattered. That night, I walked away from the man I thought loved me and the company I built. They thought I vanished. They rebranded everything in my absence, twisted the story, and erased my name from what I created. But I did not disappear. I became Juliana Cross. And I am not here to beg for what was mine. I am here to take it all back.

During the holiday, a hashtag related to honeymoon trips goes viral on social media. The topic is, "How are you planning to spend your honeymoon?" One of the threads that has the most replies reads, "I have to bring my mistress along, of course." "Wow! That's crazy. Can you teach us how to pull that off?" I frown as I scroll down the thread and find the reply. "There are a lot of poor, female backpackers these days. As long as the mistress acts pitiful enough, you can pull the wool over your wife's eyes. And just like that, a couple's haven will become a world of three. "My wife and I will be going on our honeymoon trip tomorrow. I'll give everyone live updates in this thread." Feeling disgusted, I close the thread. … The next day, my husband, Sean Clifford, and I meet a poor, female backpacker on the road. She has no car, money, or any suitcases with her. Sprawling herself across the windshield, she begs, "Can you give me a ride, sir? I have blisters all over my feet. I can't walk anymore."

My fated mate, Alpha Cullen, fell for the lies of his first love, Donna, and planned to kill me. But in a twist of fate, we were ambushed by rogues and died together. But with his last breath, he whispered another woman's name: Donna. In that moment, I knew the truth—it had always been her, his real love. When the Moon Goddess gave me a second chance, I was reborn on the day I first met him. One look at the hatred in his eyes, and I knew: he had been reborn, too. So before he could speak, I rejected him in front of the entire pack. Years later, when we met again, he sneered that I was nothing more than a pathetic rogue who tinkered with flowers. But he didn't know I had found a new mate: Orton, the Alpha of Alphas. It wasn't until our son ran to me, wrapping his little arms around my leg and crying, "Mommy!" that Cullen's façade finally shattered. He grabbed my arm, his voice cracking as he begged, "This can't be happening! I'm your fated mate! You still love me… right, Juliet?"

On my wedding anniversary, I go to Anthony Scroll's company in an attempt to surprise him. No one at the front desk stops me from entering. But what stops me in my tracks is the fact that a photo of me is printed on the welcome mat outside the CEO's office. There's also a sentence printed on the mat that says, "You'll be bestowed with wealth if you step on her face." My hands start trembling out of rage. As soon as I open the door to the office and try to bring up the topic in front of Anthony, Alexis Timmer, a shareholder, as well as one of Anthony's "boys", throws a stack of useless documents at my face instantly. The sharp edges of the papers leave papercuts on my cheek, sending white-hot pain flaring through my senses. Alexis has one leg crossed over the other as she chews on a piece of gum innocently. "Oh, hey Kimberly! Sorry about that. The papers came flying out of my hand for no reason. You see, the programmers are extremely stressed, so the mat is meant for them to vent their stress. "Anthony has agreed to the usage of your photo, by the way. After all, it makes things even livelier for the company. A housewife like you will never understand our niche humor." Anthony takes off his earphones before shooting me a berating glance. Then, he passes a bottle of water to Alexis. "Alex is just like one of the boys. Stop using your own rules to restrict her." As Alexis twists open the bottle cap, she tilts her chin in my direction smugly. "Also, Anthony hates it whenever you show up at the company with your stupid surprises, Kimberly. The food that you bring him always ends up getting eaten by us as a form of punishment."

I've waited five years for my mafia fiance, Daniele Moretti, while he keeps pushing our wedding back again and again. I've turned down every man who approaches me and put up with all the snide comments from high society. On the eve of exchanging our marriage alliance contract, thanks to a bet with his lover, Daniele decides it's hilarious to switch the groom's name. He replaces himself with his uncle, Samuele Moretti, a man who is practically on his deathbed. Daniele laughs as he brags to his friends, "Regina's obsessed with me. When she finds out, she'll cry and beg me to change it back." I stand just outside the door and hear every word. On the day of the wedding, I take Samuele's arm—the "sickly wreck" Daniele keeps mocking—and walk him up the aisle. When Daniele finally shows up late with his lover and tries to turn the ceremony into a spectacle, I slap him across the face. Now he's the one who has to call me Aunt Regina.

My son was caught in a car accident. My husband said that without a cornea donor, he would be trapped in darkness forever. Heartbroken, I let him sweet-talk me into signing away my corneas. Blind, I overheard my son gloating, "Dad, the plan worked. Mom fell for it, and Rachel's got her sight back. She won't be miserable anymore." "Yeah, now we're a real family with her," replied my husband. The truth gutted me. They'd played me like a fool to save my husband's old flame. When I confronted them, Rachel Huffman shoved me down a staircase, and I died in agony. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of my son's car accident.

His precious childhood sweetheart got drunk one night and ended up in a stranger’s bed. When she showed up again, she was pregnant—just like me. On the day I gave birth, Harold handed me the divorce papers. "Rachel’s about to return to acting," he said coldly. "She and the baby need a proper title. If a scandal breaks out, it’ll destroy her." Dragging my frail body, I calmly signed the papers. In my previous life, I refused to step aside. I went live, holding my daughter, and exposed the award-winning actress Rachel Underwood for knowingly becoming the other woman. The internet turned on her. She lost every endorsement and was driven to the edge by massive fines—eventually jumping off a building. Harold quietly took care of her funeral... and then stood by as her fans harassed me in the streets, even tried to burn my child and me alive. It was not until I saw him lock the door behind us that I realized—he had wanted us dead all along. Then I woke up. And it was the day he gave me the divorce agreement... again.