Is 'You Gonna Miss Me When I'M Gone' From A Movie?

【Terminal illness+ Betrayal+Bitter Love+werewolf+Regret+ countdown】This is a series of stories, and each can be read independently. I gave him my heart, literally. Three years ago, when Blake was dying from heart failure, I was the only compatible donor. I didn't hesitate, I let them cut out my beating heart and put it in his chest, accepting an artificial replacement that was never meant to last forever. Now my mechanical heart is failing and Blake? He's too busy planning his wedding to another woman to notice I'm dying. Lydia offers him everything I can't, political connections, a path to becoming Alpha, and a future without a sickly mate dragging him down. He calls it a marriage of convenience and promises he'll come back once he has what he wants. But I've spent three years watching him choose her over me. I'm done waiting. In thirty days, I'll undergo the Soul-Severing Ritual. My memories, wolf, and my very existence, all of it will be erased. I will disappear from the world completely. And Blake will finally understand what it feels like to lose someone who loved him with her whole heart.

"Don’t talk. Just listen.” Chloe tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. “Do you remember what happened on October 13th, 2014?” she asked. Mira’s eyes widened. “Why are you bringing back my pain, Chloe?” she whispered, her voice trembling. Chloe giggled, a soft, wicked sound. “On that day, you lost the one thing that ever mattered to you,” she said slowly. “The one thing you wanted so badly with Ethan… a child.” Tears gathered in Mira’s eyes. Her heart ached with the memory. But Chloe wasn’t done. She leaned closer and said, “Have you ever wondered how your son really died, Mira?” Mira’s eyes flickered with confusion and fear. Chloe smiled and sat down beside her. “You see,” she began, “when I was abroad, I had a bone marrow issue. I needed a transplant. And guess what? Ethan and I were still in contact back then.” Mira’s throat went dry. She swallowed hard but said nothing. Chloe continued, her voice dripping with pride. “Ethan was the one who brought up the idea of using Adrian’s bone marrow. Your son’s.” Mira froze, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. “Yes,” Chloe said, grinning. “He secretly brought me back to the city to get it done. And do you remember the car accident he had around that time? It was all staged. Ethan did it to cover up what happened—because Adrian couldn’t make it after the transplant.” Mira stared at her, tears spilling down her

I died on the day I was supposed to receive the Pack’s Distinguished Service Award. Three hours after I died, my parents, my brother, and my mate were just wrapping up the graduation party they’d thrown for my sister. While my sister, Ella, was posting a cozy family photo on Instagram, I was locked in our basement, using my tongue to swipe on my phone and call for help. The only person who answered was my mate, Ryan. All he said was, "Sophie, cut the drama. Ella's graduation party is important. Enough with the tantrums!" This was the ninety-ninth time they had let me down. And the last. I lay in a pool of my own blood, my lungs still. They thought I was just throwing a fit, hiding somewhere. That if they taught me a lesson, I’d come crawling back. But they didn't know. I was home the whole time. I was already dead.

The day Calista Everhart gets divorced, her divorce papers end up splashed online, becoming hot news in seconds. The reason for divorce was highlighted in red: "Husband impotent, leading to an inability to fulfill wife's essential needs." That very night, her husband, Lucian Northwood, apprehends her in the stairwell. He voice was low as he told her, "Let me prove that I'm not at all impotent …"

His songs were better when he had a broken heart. That sentence would change my life after my dream job was dished to me on a shiny, silver platter. All I had to do? Hurt Nash Pierce enough to get him writing good music again. The pop icon’s songs were no longer the phenomena they used to be. His team needed another breakthrough album—like the first he’d penned, using his heartbreak as fuel. The plan was simple: I’d go on tour with him as a backup dancer…and make him fall in love with me. I was hired to inspire—to become embedded into every lyric he wrote. Then, I was to set fire to it all—to destroy every feeling we hoped he’d develop for me. It seemed simple enough. Easy, even. I didn’t expect to be consumed myself—to see so much in the man displayed in the tabloids. I didn’t foresee falling for him. It didn’t occur to me that, while attempting to break his heart, I might just shatter my own. Most of all, I never thought I’d fight so hard to hold on to a relationship that had always been founded on goodbye.

The day Dad brought my ashes home, Mom, who had claimed for years to be suffering from severe postpartum depression, suddenly told the truth. "Actually, I made the illness up. "We were never short on money, either. My company took off years ago. You never had to work six jobs a day until you nearly collapsed." Dad froze, then looked up at her in disbelief. Mom went on nonchalantly as if she were discussing nothing important. "And that day on the highway, it wasn't because my depression flared up and I lost control, leaving Caleb at the rest stop by himself. "He was spoiled by you. He actually dared to talk back to Adrian, so I left him there on purpose to teach him a lesson." Dad's eyes grew redder and redder. After a long moment, he forced one question through his locked throat. "Why?" Mom gave a light laugh. At the red light, she reached over and touched his earlobe, as if she were talking about a tiny, harmless joke. "Because you kept using my love for you as an excuse to bully Adrian. It was just a small punishment. "Now the punishment is over. Daniel, you really have suffered these past six years. I'll make it up to you from now on. "What about Caleb? Children recover quickly. He should be better by now, right? Why didn't he come home with you?" Dad looked at her through tears. Two seconds later, he suddenly laughed. With trembling fingers, he patted the urn in his arms. "He's here."