You Never Go Full Meme Novels & Stories

In my previous life, my husband suffered a sudden brain hemorrhage and died instantly in his office. When I arrived at the hospital, all that awaited me was his lifeless body. Overwhelmed with grief, I coughed up blood and was bedridden ever since. On my deathbed, I happened to see a news report—my husband had won a $15 million lottery. Standing beside him at the prize ceremony was none other than my best friend. The shock killed me on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my husband had just died.

She was his wife in every way that mattered. Except the one way that was real. Seven years. One document. Everything gone. June Cross walked away from her father's empire for a man who called her temporary from the start. Now she has nothing — except a secret, a suitcase, and one night she can't stop thinking about. She doesn't remember every detail. The bar. The bourbon. The stranger with quiet eyes and steady hands who looked at her like she was the only real thing in a room full of noise. She remembers enough. What she doesn't know — what she can't know yet — is that the stranger remembers everything. And he already knows her name. Dante Reyes doesn't do feelings. He does leverage, acquisitions, and victory — in that order. What he's offering isn't romance. It isn't rescue. It's a contract. She thinks it's temporary. He knows better. But what's coming for them both is something neither of them planned for — and not everyone is going to survive it intact. She thought the hardest thing was finding out her marriage was a lie. She had no idea what was still coming for her.

Who said a parallel universe does not exist! He swore never to fall in love again. He's ruthless and cold. Lucas Quinn, is rich beyond anyone's wildest imagination and no one has ever been able to get close to him. All he cares about in life is perfection, which he always is looking for in novels and what not. But then an unruly, perfectly imperfect lady, Tasha Rowan, bumps into him, ruining a first edition book signed by the best-selling classic author in town. And she is the exact version of his dead girlfriend!

You’ll divorce me… because she asked you to?” Sereia Fontaine never believed love was fair she always knew it was cruel and pain filled but what she didn’t know was that on the night she thought she was celebrating her marriage, she would be handed divorce papers,by the man she loved dearly simply because her sister said so. The woman her husband truly loves has returned and she wants her place back. Sereia has always been the one who waits. She loved a man who never chose her, lived in a home that never felt like hers, and spent years convincing herself that love meant endurance. When the past resurfaces, Sereia’s world collapses fast. Words are twisted. Loyalty turns fragile. Cast out with nothing but shame and sadness. Sereia is forced to face a life of struggle but New York is full of dangerous men, broken promises, and second chances that don’t come without a cost. And some lies don’t stay buried… even when they should.

"You were never her, Aria. You were just... there." Jason's words echo in my head as I stand in the back of the church, watching him mourn another woman on her sister's wedding day. Isabelle. The perfect dead girlfriend. The ghost I've been competing with for three years. I thought I could be enough. I thought love could grow where grief once lived. But when I find the evidence, when I see the hotel receipts, the text messages, the photos of Jason with Isabelle's sister Violet, I realize the truth. I was never the love story. I was the intermission. What I don't know yet is that nothing about my marriage was real. Not Jason's cruelty. Not Violet's affair. Not the stranger's rescue. They've all been playing a game, and I'm the prize they're willing to destroy each other for. When the truth comes out, when I discover why Isabelle really died and who's been pulling the strings, I'll have to decide: Do I let them destroy me, or do I burn their whole world down?

Eight years ago, she sent the most dangerous man in New York to prison. Eight years later, he sat in a Cadillac parked by the Brooklyn Bridge, a cold smile on his face as he said, “A woman like you deserves to be alone.” No one knew she was sick with Alzheimer’s. It had gotten so bad that she could not even remember the way home. Yet, she remembered his face. She remembered every word he had ever said to her. She even remembered the star named “Christine.” On the first page of her diary, the same sentence was written over and over again. “Vincent Medici is the most important person in this world. No matter who I forget, I must never forget Vincent Medici.” She waited for him for eight years, but in the end, what she got was his indifference, news of his wedding, and him saying to her that someone like her did not deserve to be loved. She didn’t argue. Instead, on the last page of her diary, she quietly wrote, “That’s okay. I’m going to be with my mom now.” Amidst the five thousand streets in New York, he never found her again after that.

"Doesn't it bother you?" I blurted out right there and then, having been asking myself that question since the night we slept together. I was curious, but I'd been obviously avoiding him. "What? That you're the heir to the Siren-" "That I'm trans," I said. I could care less about what he think of me being a Sirenio by blood. "T-That I'm a trans...man," "Does it bother you that I'm bisexual?" he asked me. I hadn't expected that response. Not when I'm having mixed feelings about all of this. "Does it?" he probed, closing what's left of the space between. His scent and warmth envelopes me as I'm caged between him and the sink. I shook my head. "Use your words, Miles," he said running his finger over my bottom lip. I shuddered at the sensation it brought to my body. "You were so good with those, that night," I sucked in a sharp breath. I looked away, and his touch disappeared immediately. "It was a mistake," I whispered, my heart racing. "What...happened was a-" "I don't do mistakes, Miles," Mr Stark said guiding my eyes back to his. "You should know that by now," I let out a shaky breath when his thumb found my bottom lip again. "Does it bother you that I want to fuck you right now?"

Samir Kane was the man of my dreams, the man I’ve always wanted. So imagine my joy when he walked into my favorite cafe, went down on one knee, and brought a ring up to my face. I was beyond elated of course. I mean it was a dream come true. Little did I know that it was also going to be my nightmare disguised as a dream. Samir not only roped me into a marriage with him for selfish reasons. However, I’ve yearned for his love and acceptance for years, but he treated me with the opposite and disrespect instead. And after he was fed up, he decided to discard me. He decided I’m no longer worth it, that it’s time we part ways, and his thoughtful gift for me on the night of our five years anniversary were divorce documents. How rich? Because that was all it took for me to venture into the brutal side. Watch out Samir, I’m now on the hunt for your wreckage, and there’s no stopping until I’ve brought you exactly where you once had me.

The cold seawater engulfs me, its relentless pull dragging me into the abyss. I kick desperately, my lungs burning, but the surface drifts farther and farther away. "Save me, Kane… save our child…" Pain lances through my body as I clutch my stomach, shielding the fragile life within me. The child I never thought I'd have, the child who was supposed to be our blessing. Through the watery haze, I see Kane Porter standing on the jagged cliffs above the shore. His tall, commanding figure is framed by the moonlight, his golden eyes burning with hatred. The alpha of the Nightfall Pack, the man who once whispered my name with reverence, now looks at me like I'm filth beneath his feet. His voice cuts through the roaring waves, sharp and merciless. "Don't think I don't know what you've done, Selene." The currents tug me deeper. My strength wanes, but his words stab deeper than the water ever could. "You drugged me with a philter, hoping to make me mark you—hoping to force your way into the position of my Luna. Because of your selfishness, Arya is gone. You destroyed her mind, pushed her into madness!" A shadow of despair twists across his face, but it vanishes beneath pure fury. "She fell from that cliff because of you." I shake my head, but I can’t speak. The sea is swallowing my voice. "Do you know what it’s like to wake up every day in torment? To live knowing the woman I loved died because of you?" His eyes glint like a wolf ready to tear out his prey's throat. "I want you to feel every ounce of that pain. I want you and your cursed child to die with her." The waves crash above me, and darkness claws at the edges of my vision. When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the day Kane's philter takes effect. He approaches me, his face flushed and his breathing rapid. He's already undone his buttons. "Hang on, Kane. Arya will be here soon!" I back away and open the door behind me. Then, I run off.

My daughter Stella was dying—kidneys shot, barely hanging on. She needed a transplant. Fast. But my wife, Kylie—the hospital director—stole the donor kidney meant for Stella and handed it off to her old flame's kid instead. That boy lived. They celebrated. Played happy family while my daughter was bleeding out hope. That same day, I called Kylie. Told her Stella didn't have much time. All she said was, "That ungrateful brat's faking it again? Lying? If she wants to die, let her." Stella didn't make it. Her body gave out in the worst way. And when Kylie finally saw her—really saw her—she broke.