Why Do I Feel Unwanted Novels & Stories

His sickness grew worst as his health deteriorated. Han Manuel knew he wasn't going to live much longer and after much denial, he decided to accept his horrid fate. But he found love in the weirdest of girls but prettiest of them all. She gave him hope and a thousand and one reasons to live again. A story of two hearts from two different worlds, joined together by love and destiny....

Ethan Shaw had died. Before the funeral, his wife, Stella Walker, packed his belongings and found a thick photo album. [My True Love] On the cover, it said— She opened it. The photos inside were not of her. They were Rachel Chester—the girl Ethan had adopted years ago. Not only that, Ethan left all his wealth to her. Stella died with hate in her heart. When she opened her eyes again, she had returned to the night before she married Ethan. This time, she chose to live for herself and walked away from Ethan to pursue her own dream. What she did not expect was that, in this life, Ethan went mad looking for her when she left. He searched for her everywhere.

In the Santoro family, there was one rule: the heir marries a daughter from another powerful Family. But Alessio Santoro was crazy. He wanted to marry me, a nobody from a flower shop. He knelt in the family chapel for ten days straight. He even took a bullet fired by his own father, the Don. All just to walk away from his title and run away with me. I held him, crying, begging him to stop. He just smiled and kissed my eyes, wiping my tears. "Don't cry, Thea. As long as I can marry you, it's all worth it." In the end, the Santoros relented. But they had one condition: Alessio would still produce the next heir. Just not with me. He had to have a son with Aurelia Rossi. So I endured. I endured listening to them through the wall, night after agonizing night. I endured the smell of her perfume on his skin, the sight of her marks on his neck every time he kissed me. A year later, Aurelia got pregnant. It was a girl. Alessio begged me, his eyes red. "Just a little longer, Thea." So I waited another year. Finally, news came. Aurelia was pregnant with a boy. I thought we could finally leave, finally be free. But then disaster struck. Aurelia’s daughter had a sudden, violent allergic reaction. Everyone blamed me. They threw me in the cellar and left me to die. And Alessio? He believed them. This time, I was the one who gave up. I walked away from everything.

“I hate you!” I picked up the flower vase from the center table, and lifted my hand to throw it at him. But before I could do so, the man from behind gripped my hand, and collected it from me. “Are you going to sign the divorce papers?” he brought out a gun, and cocked it. “Or would you rather lose your life?” ****************** Sometimes, saying 'I do' could be the beginning of true marital bliss. And other times? It could be the beginning of endless suffering and torture. Abby had only ever wanted a man for herself, and when Claude showed up, he was everything she could ask for, and even more. But sometimes, even criminals wear innocent faces. What happens when Abby learns that the man whom she loved was responsible for the explosion that claimed the lives of her parents and best friend?

Aubrey Evans is married to the love of her life,Haden Vanderbilt. However, Haden loathes Aubrey because he is in love with Ivory, his previous girlfriend. He cannot divorce Aubrey because the contract states that they have to be married for atleast three years before they can divorce. What will happen when Ivory suddenly shows up and claims she is pregnant. How will Aubrey feel when Haden decides to spend time with Ivory? But Ivory has a dark secret of her own. Will she tell Haden the truth? Will Haden ever see Aubrey differently and love her?

Angels and devils ruled the city of Los Angeles. It was in the deep underbelly of the sparkling done-up town that I found him. Where I found the devil himself. A god in human form. A devil in every way. I fell for him, tumbled towards him like a bowling ball to some easily knocked down pins. Yet, I lost him. You never mess with a gang, I messed with the leaders of all leaders, I messed with Angeles.

My husband's childhood sweetheart was diagnosed with a terminal illness. To fulfill her last wishes and let her experience the warmth of family, my husband, Aaron Turner, gave her my necklace. He even let her claim my birthday. Even our son started calling her "Mom" in private. He told me, "Chrishell, Sylvia is dying. Just give in to her, will you?" Whenever I asked him to spare even a little time and affection for me, our son, Lucas, would rush to speak on their behalf. "Mom, didn't you always teach me to be generous? Sylvia is dying. Why do you always make things difficult for her?" Over time, I stopped asking for anything at all. Then one night, I overheard my son speaking to his father after returning from the hospital. "Sylvia is so gentle and graceful. I wish Mom could be more like her." Aaron chuckled and affectionately brushed his hand over our son's hair. "Your mom may be a little strict, but it's all for your own good. Since you like Sylvia so much, how about we let her be your godmother?" So even the child I risked my life to bring into this world didn't like me. I lowered my gaze, quietly closed the bedroom door, and pretended none of it had happened. Since they were both filled with such regret, I'd leave quietly and give them what they wanted.

My name is Alaki Bea Miller-or known above: Alaki Bea X. That is what they call us, the inferior ones: X. In this world, I live under laws that declare it illegal to bear more than one blood in your veins. A legal system built on segregation by race, where mixing blood is the highest crime. In this world, I am not human. I am not a person. I am a thing, an abomination that threatens their system. His name is Efrem Mustafin, leader of one of the five Rings, Master of his race, and the man who saved my life. Legally, he owns me. To save me, he had to claim me as property. And in exchange for my protection, we play a game. One where I submit to him before watching eyes, and he keeps me safe. Master Efrem Mustafin, he is. Subject Alaki Bea X, I am. Or at least, I was. I belong to him. My name is Alaki Bea Mustafin, and in this world, I Am Mustafin.

This isn't a love story, but almost a love story. Irina and Eric share a world through dreams and time travel. They have a strong mutual understanding about the feelings they have for each other, at the same time understanding that they cannot be together. Eric: I open my eyes and find myself standing alone in an empty room. The ceilings and the walls are neatly painted white. And the floor is composed of polished light brown wood. And there is a dark brown framed window at one corner where the light comes from. A bright yellow and pale red orange light tells me the sun is setting and soon it will be dark. Eric is a ghost who always appears in Irina's dream. Irina: I open the door to the bedroom. There is a dark brown framed window at one corner where the light is coming from. The yellow orange light passes through the open window. I see Eric standing right there on the spot captured by the yellow light. ‘You came back.’ I said. He stood there looking me in the eye. I almost died. Irina is a time traveler who may or may not change his fate. They alternatively tell a bitter sweet story. Love doesn't always mean together, sometimes it is deeper apart. Eric: I stand alone in the rain looking at the dark sky where all I can see is water, for it is both the rain and my tears flowing to my face. Irina: And suddenly it is no longer my reflection I see inside the mirror. What I see now is a figure of a man. I draw closer to see him clearly. But the closer I walk towards him, the farther I become from him. I couldn't get close.

“Miss Green, the results show that you have late-stage pancreatic cancer. The situation isn’t good for you. If you give up on treatment, you might have less than a month left. Are you sure you don’t want to receive treatment? Will your husband agree to it?” “I’m sure that… he will.” After I hung up, I surveyed the empty house and felt sadness fill every fiber of my heart. I had thought that the pain I felt was due to my dear old friend, gastritis, but it was cancer. I sighed and looked at the picture on the table. The eighteen-year-old Zach Stone stared at me in the photo. It had been years since, but I still remembered how the snow had fallen on my hair. At that time, Zach had smiled and asked whether this counted as us growing old together.