Why Dont We Quotes

This is my 18th time coming to City Hall, yet Tessa's still nowhere to be seen. Right as I'm about to call and ask her how much longer she'll be, her childhood friend's post popped up on my screen. "Celebrating 1000 days of marriage with my wife. May we always be this happy." The photo highlights a marriage certificate, and Tessa Cross' name is right there under "wife". As for the license date, it shows February 14th, three years ago. So this is why she hasn't shown up the last eighteen times. It turns out that she's already somebody else's wife.

My husband, Ethan Parker, brought our daughter on a trip to the countryside with his first love, Mandy Sanchez. Halfway through, he abandoned our little girl and left with Mandy. When our daughter was surrounded by wolves, I could not reach him. By the time I arrived, the car was empty—the only thing left behind was a bloodstained piece of pumpkin pie. As I was dealing with my grief, Ethan finally answered his phone. "We're celebrating Thanksgiving. Why are you ruining the mood?" I internally scoffed at that man's audacity. Well, happy holidays indeed! Let me deliver a bloody pumpkin pie for you to really get into the spirit.

The new project was short on staff. Over everyone's objections, I pulled three former colleagues out of an overlooked department where they'd been warming the bench for years. The four of us became the project's core team. The bonus was generous, the workload light. They all said I was their lucky charm. Three months later, with delivery just around the corner, I passed the break room and overheard them talking. "The biggest credit for this project belongs to the three of us. Why should Chloe get an equal share of the bonus just because she recommended us? She barely did any real work." "Exactly. Let's talk to the director. We'll say all the core work was done by us, that she's not up to the task. We'll apply to have her removed from the contributors list." "Just thinking about not having to split those tens of thousands with her—it feels amazing." I pushed the door open. They stared at me, stunned. I smiled. They wanted to kick me out? Too bad. I was the director who parachuted in to evaluate them.

Grace read the content of the tweet with trembling lips, and a hoarse voice almost choking, or did she know why she could be like that, there was clearly a feeling of horror that ran through her body as she read the tweet. The tweet is "Thank you to my friends who have cursed at me, hopefully we will meet again letter. The path i take is God's way." For a moment the were silent, no one dared to make a sound. Their lips seemed to be sewn up hard to open, they look each other, it wasn't the vengeful it used to be, but one filled with horror. As if something was telling them that a terrible event had happend, let's just say it was a hunch.

On the day I died, my boyfriend was with another woman. He was a man I had rescued from the clutches of rich women. My condition was for him to be my boyfriend for three years, and he agreed. I showered him with money, resources, and connections, single-handedly making him famous. Yet, while he told me we could not date publicly, he casually engaged in fake romance rumors with others for publicity. One of his rumored girlfriends even came to me with a voice message. "If it weren’t for using her as a stepping stone, who would bother with someone so dull and boring?" But after I died, why did he go mad?

My boyfriend's "best female friend" was angry again. Why? Because for our five-year anniversary, he got a gift just for me—and forgot about hers. Simone Baker threw a complete fit, sobbing and making a huge scene. Scott Tanner immediately blocked me and removed me on Instagram, then changed our matching couple profile pictures. "Girls can be so dramatic," he said. "Once I've calmed her down, we'll switch them back." I reminded him, "That makes a hundred times now." He just smiled and gave me a quick kiss. "I know. I'll make it fast this time." That night, Simone posted a status update: [Your effort was acceptable. You get three days of freedom.] Almost immediately, Scott unblocked me. [Okay, babe. We can put our couple pictures back now.] But then a male account—using my half of the matching photo—sent him a friend request, followed by a single question mark. [Since when are couple photos a group project?]

I can’t tell if we’re at war… or dancing around something far more dangerous. Getting traded to the Montreal Bears should’ve been a dream come true, the team I grew up idolizing, the jersey I always wanted to wear. Except there’s one problem. Luca Moretti. The NHL’s notorious bad boy. My new right wing. And the one man who’s made it his mission to outshine me at every turn. Too bad for him I’m faster, sharper, and my numbers don’t lie. Not that I’m competing. I’d never sink to his level. He’s reckless, infuriating, and impossible to ignore a storm of chaos that throws me completely off balance. When we’re not clashing on the ice, he pushes my buttons with teasing nicknames like Princess, Pretty Boy, and Babygirl. I hate it. I swear I do. So why does my body react like I don’t? Contain Explicit Content

After encountering problems at work, I lose myself in a virtual reality game. I randomly meet a male player in there and depend on my amorous interactions with him to escape reaity. We flirt with each other and have roleplay; he grunts and groans over the microphone. Everything changes when I accidentally reveal my true identity. The young man next door pins me underneath him and roams his hands over my body. When he speaks, his voice is hoarse. "You were great at flirting in the game, weren't you? Why can't you make those noises now?"

It's my third day of being a ghost, and I feel like I'm going to starve to death again. The underworld messenger takes pity on me because I'm a child and secretly tells me that people like me, who suffered grievances and died with resentment, have to stay by the sides of the people who loved us most in life. Then, we survive on their "guilt". I lower my head and narrow my eyes. I choke up and say, "You might as well just leave me to starve." My mother hated me to the core. Why would she ever be guilty over my death?

Alexander knight is the king of country A. It is said that he is the cruellest King who does not blink his eyes when he kill someone. Victoria Herman is the princess of the country K. She is known for her beauty, kindness and brain. what happens when they are forced into an arranged marriage? Will there be love between them? Hello guys everyone. I am editing the story so pls dont unlock the chapters. I have edited up to wedding chapter. And you can support me by reading the chapter daily as I will be updating a chapter with 1500 words daily. Sorry guys pls support me.