How Does The Illusion Of Choice Explain Psychological Biases?

I've crushed on Ethan McKay since the moment I laid eyes on him. After a year and a half of going to the same college, he still has no clue I exist. Aside from my best friend, I'm practically invisible since I've spent the last seven years of my life purposefully living in the shadows, just waiting for my life to begin. Not that it matters. He's got his own life to live anyway. Parties to attend. Girls to see. And a father to impress so he can regain his trust, and earn back his rightful place in the family business. So, how is it that one night, one party, changes everything for the both of us?

Step 1: Go to college. Check. Step 2: Find a job. No luck. Step 3: Start a family. Whoa, one thing at a time. Alicia Chambers was stuck on Step 2. No matter how many resumes she sent out, she couldn’t find a job in her dream field: phone app development. It seemed like most successful apps were started by a single inspired person in their basement, including the most recent craze, Monster Go. If only Alicia could find her own inspiration for an app… Drawn into the game (research, she told herself), she meets a mysterious stranger who also plays. He’s perfect for her: rich, handsome, and nerdy. However, despite formerly being in app development himself, Jacob seems to have left it all behind. Between romantic dates and catching monsters, Alicia finds herself growing closer to the mysterious man. But when she learns something that he deliberately kept hidden, will she flee his secretive life? Will she let him know her own secret- that she’s carrying a little gift from all their time “playing” together? I Choose You is a standalone romance novel. If you like new adult stories, you’ll enjoy this story of two people finding love over a phone app.

Summary: Inspector Thomas Bertrand, a methodical and respected police officer, is tasked with investigating a mysterious murder. The evidence seems to point to the assassin being a beautiful and young woman, Isabelle Dufresne. But as soon as he meets her, an irresistible attraction grows between them, a feeling that deeply unsettles him. The battle between his duty to justice and his growing emotions for Isabelle leads him into an intense inner struggle. As the investigation progresses, he discovers that nothing is as it seems and that dark forces are manipulating the truth. His heart and mind are in conflict, and the hidden truth could very well destroy him.

Deceit: The act of making a person believe something that is not true. Our 26-year-old charming bachelor, Giovanni De Luca. One simply defined as a secluded blue Moon diamond, making it almost impossible for your paths to collide with his. He undeniably reeks of luxury after all the surname De Luca is an eye candy to the public and wealth itself. Unfortunately for him life decides to humble him in a rather debasing manner, as he finds his multi-millionaire company on the verge of bankruptcy forcing him into a rash decision. A decision which drags Rosalie Ravelosin into the picture. 21-year-old Rosalie Ravelosin struggles with the knowledge of being despised by both parents for reasons unknown to her and undoubtedly seen of less value by her co-workers. She's held captive by an emotional and financial struggle, and being dragged into yet another undesirable situation is something she truly isn't up for.

My fiancé presented two engagement rings—one for me, one for my sister to choose first. The first was a three-carat fancy pink diamond, flown in from Antwerp, the kind that made dealers go quiet. The second was a plain platinum band, standard issue, the sort you buy off the tray as a backup. For the first time in my life, I pointed at the pink diamond. "I'll choose first this time." Dante Moretti ran his hand through my hair, the way you soothe a restless dog. "Eleanor, you know Grace has always been particular. If she can't have the best, she'd rather have nothing. You've never cared about any of this. The other one is fine." I didn't answer. My chest felt hollow. We'd grown up together—his father ran the West Coast territory, mine the East. But in Dante's eyes, I'd always been the second daughter, the one who got what Grace didn't want. Every summer, he'd cut watermelon and bring the first plate to Grace. She'd take the center slice—sweetest, seedless, deepest red. He'd push the rest toward me—the pale pink near the rind. "This part's still good. Just not as sweet." When he bought his first Maserati, Grace picked the front seat—less motion sickness. He gestured at the back. "A little tight, but you can pick either side." Even our love was secondhand. He'd loved Grace first. She chose her academic career over him. So Dante, wounded and restless, came to me. In his world, Grace was always the first choice. I looked at the platinum band and pushed it across the table. "Give them both to Grace. I don't want either."

By the seventh year of my engagement to Tristan, he postponed our wedding for the third time. The reason was simple. His childhood sweetheart, Gabriella, had returned to the country. She had just gone through a divorce and was emotionally unstable. Tristan personally retrieved every invitation we had sent out, his tone calm and steady. "Gabby has no one by her side right now. I can't upset her at a time like this." I held the ring that had already been resized twice and asked, "What about me?" Tristan glanced at me. "You're different. You're sensible." I had been hearing that word for seven years. Sensible. When his startup failed, I sold the old house my grandmother had left me to help him pay off his debts. When he suffered a gastric hemorrhage, I stayed at the hospital for three days straight and missed my own promotion defense. When his mother said my background was too ordinary for him, he only rubbed his temples and said, "Tori, don't make this difficult for me." Every time, I nodded. He once told me that no matter how thick the fog became, he would always leave a light on for me. Until the day Gabriella stood in front of the mirror wearing my wedding dress and smiled as she asked, "Victoria, you don't mind, do you? Tristan said your wedding's being postponed anyway." Tristan stood behind her. He did not deny it. He even reached out and adjusted her veil for her. The fog lamp he had given me with his own hands sat by the display window of the bridal shop. It was still lit, illuminating someone else in the white dress I had waited seven years to wear. Only then did I realize that some roads were not lost because the fog was too thick. It was because he had never planned to come for me at all.