Why Did He Wake Up An Hour Late

Noel had a great life, or so she thought. She had followed all the rules that a woman is suppose to. She got married, she had children, and she was a dutiful wife. One fateful day will change her life dramatically, and end the love story that was her life. Lost and alone, Noel must learn how to navigate the world of love all over again. Finding her way through the fast paced world of dating, and failed relationships will she ever find love again?Wrong Way Up is a story about the modern dating world, and navigating relationships. Follow Noel as she learns about the new rules for her world. Dealing with abusive relationships, treacherous friends, and breaking the values she was taught as a child. Will she find a way to fly again, or will she choose to end it all?

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.

My cousin, Kaylee Langford, pushes me down the ski slope when there's an avalanche. My boyfriend, Atlas Ferguson, lifts her into his arms and leaves. He seems to have forgotten that I'm buried underneath the snow mountain. He leaves me stranded at the valley for seven days. He's furious when he finds me. "You should be glad nothing went wrong with Kaylee's arms. Otherwise, the only way you could atone would be to die on this mountain! Our wedding is canceled—we'll have it once you realize what you did wrong." He thinks I'll cry or kick up a fuss, but I merely nod and say, "Okay." He doesn't know that I've made a deal with the Moon Goddess. In six days, I'll be giving up the things that mean most to me—my love for Atlas and my memories of him. Once that happens, I'll forget everything about him and start afresh somewhere new. What does a wedding matter when the Ember Sloane who loved him is now dead?

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.

When a eighteen-year-old virgin decided to leave Louisiana, her home town for Texas, an alien town she was oblivious that the journey of her independence would become one of longing for a man's love and attention. With her love built on a misconception, she was unaware that Charles Jackson; the multi-billionaire, was an egocentric, cold-hearted, proud and unforgiving man who locked his heart to love, the aftermath of the brute conditions under which he grew up. But yet, Maureen Thompson was bent on earning her bosses attention at all cost. Though not pushy or... flirty, she developed partial-obsessive tendencies; one that kept her dwindling in the thoughts of having sex with him—even as a virgin! Forgoing his harsh countenance, overly exaggerated reactions, she envisions Charles in the portrait of cold-nineteenth century men that spew flavors of love to their lovers—indoor. But Charles Jackson, built in grace and glamor, could win a medal in egocentrism, rudeness malevolence, prudishness and of course, beauty! And yet, she judged his reactions to the plane crash wrongly, unaware that December had scared his heart. It appeared that the plane crash became memorable either through breaking hearts or eventually mending them. Be it the crash itself or the incidents after the crash, it changed people's lives and Maureen was not left out. In readiness to be true to her love, Maureen ignored warnings and hit the wrong target. Lurking in the shadows of her emotions and fated to be bewitched by perfect blue eyes that defies morality, she might discover that Charles Jackson, heir to Jackson Companies PLC and CEO of Westland Airlines was truly born of STONE and FROST. And worse, everything that she believed might just be a lie!

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?

My husband's true love developed acute kidney failure, and I was the only matching donor. To save her life, he forced me to terminate my pregnancy at six months. Despite his gentle tone, he said the most heart-wrenching words, "Can't you be a little kinder? You're just losing a child, but she's losing her life." I resisted with every fiber of my being, but he threatened his own life to force my hand. On the operating table, both my child and I died. Meanwhile, his true love's transplant was a success, and she lived. Although the outcome was exactly what he wanted, he spiraled into madness upon hearing news of my death.

My husband, Henry Luther, never loved me.He's always loved my younger sister instead.I chose to step aside and fulfill their love.But no one believed my sincere sacrifice..."Are you trying to act pitiful again?" Henry stared at me with a hostile look in his eyes.

My boyfriend passed away from illness. Before he died, he asked me to look after his only younger brother—Callum Ressler. I put Callum through college, and helped him build his company from the ground up. Then one night, after a round of drinking at some work function, he ended up in bed with me. While I wrestled with what we were to each other, I noticed something on his office desk: a photo of me, framed neatly beside an engagement ring. My heart stirred. I pushed open the lounge door, ready to finally talk about us. But just as the door creaked open, a white camisole fell at my feet. I froze. Callum pulled the covers tightly around a shocked female assistant. "Diana, ever heard of knocking?" he snapped. Face pale, limbs suddenly uncoordinated, I started backing out. But the assistant's timid voice stopped me. "Diana… could you hand me my clothes?" I ignored the hostility behind her eyes, grabbed the garment, tossed it onto the bed, and left in a hurry. Once I stepped outside the company building, Callum called. "Diana, you should really stop barging into my room like that." I laughed and agreed. From that moment on, I never stepped into his world again.

In my fifth year of teaching at a rural school in Mount Dalon, Melissa Snow shows up with her first love by her side. "Have you had enough of this miserable life? Go apologize, and after I'm married, I might still support you. Otherwise, stay here and rot as a lonely, broke schoolteacher." People around us begin to whisper, acting like I've been handed my golden ticket out of the impoverished area and should be falling to my knees in gratitude. I simply smile. "Teaching here suits me just fine. Besides, I'm married."