Hanging Side Table Novels & Stories

When my husband, Kevin, and I were at our favorite exclusive restaurant, he ordered a T-bone steak and told the waiter with practiced ease, "The usual, and no arugula in the side salad." I paused, then gently nudged his elbow. "Honey, did you forget? Arugula is my favorite." Kevin's body tensed, and he quickly corrected himself. I even teased him, asking if he was so tired lately that his memory was starting to go. A week later, I came back to the restaurant alone to unwind, only to overhear the young woman at the next table waving to the waiter with a smile. "The T-bone again, and no arugula in the salad. Just put it on my husband's tab." "The account number is 8993." My knife and fork clattered against the bone china plate. That string of numbers was my husband's private phone number.

Three years of marriage, and it all ends with two words. Sign it. He didn’t even look up when he said it. Just slid the papers across the table like I was another business deal to close. We weren’t supposed to fall in love it started as a contract, something practical, something safe. But feelings have a way of growing where they shouldn’t. For a while, I thought he cared. The quiet moments, the small things he remembered my favorite song, how I take my tea, the way I hate the rain. I thought they meant something. Turns out, they did. Just not for me. Every gesture, every soft word, was borrowed from a memory. From her. The woman who had him first. The one who left. The one who’s now back. So I signed. I smiled. I walked away. Not because I wanted to but because I had to. He doesn’t chase me. Not yet. But I can feel it the weight of everything unsaid still hanging in the air between us. Maybe he’ll realize what he’s lost. Maybe he won’t. Either way, this time, I’m not waiting around to find out.

I am the lawfully wedded wife of Don Jones—the Donna of the Jones Family—and the founding CEO of his medical empire. I stood by Vincent's side as we built it up from a two-room surgical clinic into the crown jewel of European private healthcare. Then, in my eighth month of pregnancy, dying on the operating table, Vincent pulled every surgeon out of my maternity ward for the sake of his mistress. He killed our child with his own hands. He stripped me of the right to ever be a mother. He thought I was a homeless orphan with nowhere to go. He had no idea I was the sole blood heir of the Belmonte Family. After the divorce, I came home to command a global medical empire. He knelt and begged. I watched, cold-eyed, as he fell into hell.

When I was four months pregnant, my fiance, who was a doctor, left me hanging when we were supposed to get married. This was not the first time; this was the sixteenth time. The first time, his nurse fainted at the sight of blood during an operation, and I waited for him for an entire day at the city hall. The second time, his nurse called, and he left me behind on a viaduct to buy daily necessities for her. Whenever we were about to get married, his nurse would call him for all sorts of problems. The final time was when he told me he was sick. Despite the rain, I rushed to the hospital, only to find that it was his nurse who was sick. He stayed by her side to care for her while he lied to me without batting an eye. At that moment, I began to hate him. I aborted our baby and left. But he chased after me and even traveled out of the country just to apologize.

A car accident left my mother-in-law bleeding and desperate for help, but her plea was heartlessly rejected by her own daughter. Even on her deathbed, my mother-in-law's only wish was to see her one last time. However, she was busy staying by her first love's side, euthanizing his dog. "You better stay as far away from me as possible! My mom's perfectly fine!" she shouted before hanging up on me, only to spend the night tangled with her first love in a hotel room. It was not until after the cremation ceremony that she returned—carrying a birthday cake. What greeted her was not a celebration but her mother's funeral. She cried, sobbing uncontrollably, "Mom! You haven't even celebrated my birthday yet! Don't leave me!" I stared at her and pulled the divorce papers from my bag. How fitting. This time, I was leaving too.

At our college reunion, I let slip about the three great catches I was dating online. One ran a successful law firm, the other was a researcher at a leading institute, while another was an up-and-coming tech mogul on the Forbes list. My so-called best friend, Cassie Young, paused halfway through her plate of ribs. Giving me the side glance, she voiced her sarcasm. “I feel sorry for your future husband. Of all the women he could have, he had to marry someone with a rich history.” I took a sip of my juice and responded, “Honestly, I’m pretty stressed about the whole thing. They are all amazing. I can’t decide between them. Cassie, does anyone tickle your fancy? You can have one.” As her cutlery clattered on the table, Cassie widened her eyes. “A-Are you for real?”

Synopsis “There is a very important clause Miss Heathrow.” The lawyer muttered as he pushed the file across the table, “I implore you to look at it very closely.” Annalise nodded, her mood tepid as she stared at the document right in front of her. It didn’t take a moment before those words finally seeped into her mind and heart, “Fall in love with him and lose everything??” She blurted out loud. *********** She only has one job. But if she falls in love she loses it all. It’s all very simple for Annalise Heathrow—Marry the elusive billionaire, Stephan Ashford, and have his child, protect his reputation and company, be his wife only on paper and nothing else. But when tides turn and Annalise sees a whole new side to her contract husband, will she choose her heart and lose the one thing dearest to her??

Annabelle's mission is to infiltrate the powerful Bellarico household, with her father’s life hanging in the balance. But as she worked her way into their trust, she found herself drawn to Gerrard Bellarico, the ruthless leader of the Bellarico Empire. When her betrayal is uncovered, and her life now hanging on the balance, and at the mercy of Gerrard Bellarico. they are both faced with a choice that could destroy them, or redefine their futures.

Like many women who refuse to give up until they hit a dead end, Winter Scott once tried to make a man like Chris Xander fall in love with her. But after three years of marriage, they were nothing more than strangers. When she was brutally attacked and her life was hanging by a thread, Chris wasn’t with her. He was by the side of his former love. Winter forced herself to let go. Yet the powerful man she thought she had left behind refused to disappear from her life. Step by step, he closed in on her, cutting off any chance of a new romance in her life and blocking every path of retreat. “You’re the one who insisted on marrying me back then,” he said coldly. “As long as I don’t agree to a divorce, you’ll never be free of me.” Winter looked at him coldly. “Sorry, Mr. Xander. Game over. This marriage ends when I say it ends.”

I just woke up one day with a handsome vampire by my side, offering me a contract marriage. I knew it was like being courted by the devil, yet like a foolish lamb who laid herself on the sacrificial table, I reached for his hand, not knowing that it would consume my reckless heart. Eve was caught in a fight between vampires and werewolves after her vampire boyfriend left her. With her family and friends killed by an unknown vampire group, she is left with no choice but to ask for Landon's help, the vampire lord who saved her for his personal interest. Landon was a scheming man who holds many dark secrets, a devil who won't hesitate to consume the souls of his victims. He wants to play with Eve, to consume her little by little, but when his dead heart starts to feel warmth for the first time, he realized he found someone he is willing to burn a whole city for.