He Chose Her Over Me Novels & Stories

When I head over to my daughter, Hannah Westfield's place for dinner during Christmas Eve, I specifically wear a wool coat for the occasion. Unexpectedly, when Hannah sees me, she pushes me out of the front door instantly. "Mom, why must you buy the same coat as my mother-in-law did? Don't you know that she hates it when others imitate her? Hurry up and take off the coat before she sees you!" Meanwhile, my son-in-law, Thomas Clifford, digs out an old coat and puts it on me. "Mom, there are many relatives visiting our house today. Please spare my mom her pride and don't steal her thunder, okay?" Seeing how sincere Thomas looks, I decide to yield. But as soon as I take my seat, Giselle Johnson chortles in amusement as she stares at the old coat I'm wearing. "Oh Fiona, if you like my clothes, you could've just said so, and I'd give it to you. It's bad if you just steal my old coat from me and wear it, you know? Besides, don't you know that those who imitate always do a bad job at it?" Furious, I'm about to up and leave when Giselle grabs the coat and blocks my way. "I placed two money envelopes in the coat pockets a few days ago. There are 20 thousand dollars in there. Why are they gone after you've worn it? "I don't mind you wearing my coat behind my back, but you must return the money to me right now!"

On my 22nd birthday, my uncle Scott discovered my diary. After he found out about my secret love for him, he sent me overseas. He then spent hundreds of thousands, marrying the love of his life.

I was diagnosed with Wolf-Soul Decay Syndrome on my birthday, which meant I was on the verge of death. But my older brother, Alaric Sinclair, bought the only tube of Moonviolet serum—a serum capable of saving my life—just so he could give it to my younger adopted sister, Megan Sinclair. He thought I faked my illness in order to attract everyone's attention. Because of that, I stole the serum when no one was looking and took it. That night, Megan drove away from home in tears, only to be met with a fatal car accident that took her life. I was cast out of my childhood home by my parents. Even my fiance, Kenneth Ravenscroft, who once vowed to protect me, hated my guts. Upon returning to my own home, I ended up dying in a fire that broke out. But what I don't expect is that I've traveled back in time to the third day before my demise. During those three days, I've given up on everything. When I mention that I can give away my spot at the marking ceremony, Kenneth praises me for being an understanding fiancee. When I hand over my design company, which is in the top 500 rank, to Megan, my parents are satisfied with me. "You've finally learned how to be selfless, Evie," they say. But Alaric grabs my hand and roars, "Didn't you claim that you'd never give those things away unless you die? Why are you giving them away now?" That's because I'm about to die, dear brother.

"Making you my Luna is the one thing I’ll always be ashamed of!" On our third anniversary, my husband, Alpha Keegan, brought his mistress home. He served her the dinner I cooked and asked her to live with us. I was the Luna, but I was just a ghost in his life. Then came the twist that shattered my world: she’s pregnant with his child. When an "accident" threatens her life, his cruelty becomes absolute. He doesn't want me; he just wants my rare, "golden blood". He orders me to become her living blood bank to "ensure Sienna and the baby's health". His final plan? To replace me as Luna. He thought I was just a weak Omega he could discard. He forgot I was once his strongest warrior. "I, Lilian Harrington, reject you as my mate and my husband." I'm done. But he refuses to sign the divorce papers, determined to keep his possession. He thinks I'll have nowhere to go. He's about to find out what happens when the warrior he cast aside is offered a new life by his biggest rival.

Someone steals my takeout at the school gate. It is from a BBQ restaurant. Not only does the thief eat it all, but he also humiliates me in front of my classmates. He mocks, "Look, everyone! This is what a pauper would eat. Even my dog eats better than this!" He pulls out a stack of cash and slaps one bill against my face. Then, he tosses the rest into the air. "Happy birthday, beggar!" Three days later, he is burned to death in the alley behind the school, his limbs stretched out and tied to a tree. He is literally "grilled." And I become the murderer.

After failing to kill each other for eight years, two rival mafia families — the Hayes and the Vilantros — must now join forces to eliminate a greater threat: the ruthless Peterson Russian Mafia. Aries Hayes can either work with her longtime enemy, Adam Vilantros, to protect their families and sort out their hate later… or take them both down. But as sparks fly and alliances blur, Aries faces a dangerous question: is Adam truly on her side, or just playing her heart to win the war? As betrayal, bloodshed, and forbidden desire explode around them, one thing becomes clear: it’s her life or his. Over her dead body… or his!

On the eve of our wedding, Mabel Jones' first love, Carter Hayes, has shredded my custom-ordered suit that's worth a million dollars. The waistband of my pants has torn open, causing the pants to fall off my body. As such, I endhttps://gn.activitycms.com/hwyc-admin/bookManager/book/edit?bookId=31001354896# up humiliating myself in front of the wedding guests. Carter is still holding a pair of scissors as he looks at me innocently. "I'm so sorry, Aiden. I must have ruined your pants because I used a little more force than needed. You won't blame me for what happened, right?" Mabel rushes over and snatches the scissors away from Carter. She tells him, "Why should Aiden blame you? You offered to cut the loose thread out of the kindness of your heart. If anything, he's to be blamed for tearing the pants from how fat he is!" As I continue to lift the pants, I just watch Mabel and Carter interact with each other in a lovey-dovey manner. Now that my suit is ruined, it's time for me to wake up from my fantasy.

On the day of the SAT exam, my girlfriend’s childhood friend, Benedict Casper, forgot his admission ticket at home. She insisted on retrieving it for him, but I begged her not to go. In the end, Benedict missed his final chance for taking the exam and, overwhelmed by despair, he jumped to his death. Years later, my girlfriend, Ella Simpson, and I graduated from Whitmore Institute of Technology, landed high-paying jobs, and built a picture-perfect marriage. But on the anniversary of Benedict’s death, she stabbed me repeatedly, her voice trembling with rage, “You killed him. If I’d gotten his admission ticket, he would’ve never jumped.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the exams. Ella’s frantic voice rang in my ears, “I have to go back, Dominic. I need to get Benedict’s ticket!” This time, I smiled and said, “Go ahead. Be careful on the way.”

My husband was not fully conscious from anaesthesia after waking up from surgery, and he started spouting nonsense. I laughed while recording his comical reaction, but while helping him into a chair, I paused when I heard him calling for his son. "Be a good boy, all right? Daddy is busy." My smile froze, and I was stunned. We had been DINKs for 10 years. When did he get a son? My hands trembled as I turned on his phone. It was the first time I was looking through his phone in our years of marriage. When I browsed the phone’s data, I found a private album filled with intimate photos of him with another woman and a child. It was a boy who looked very similar to him, and the timestamp on the photos indicated that the boy was three. All three of them were smiling happily, but their smiles hurt me. He had once told me with conviction that he hated kids and did not want to be tied down by family, which was why he convinced me to be a DINK. However, I now knew that he was not really sincere about being a DINK; he just did not want to have kids with me.

While preparing for the SATs at the library, my brother is accidentally shot and injured, causing him to bleed profusely. I pass by this scene but turn a blind eye and quicken my pace to leave. This is because in my previous life, when I saw him, I rushed him to the hospital in a panic. He had intracranial hemorrhaging, and he urgently needed surgery. I quickly called my mom, the top neurosurgeon in the city, begging her to come to the hospital as soon as possible. However, she thought I was jealous that she had taken my adopted sister to the beach instead of spending time with me. She also believed I had fabricated the story about my brother's injury, and thus refused to return. By the time my dad and the rest of the family hurried to the hospital, it was too late for rescue efforts—my brother had passed away. The whole family blamed me for his death. They were convinced that I had deliberately misled my mom and delayed his critical treatment. When my mom returned from out of town, she lost her composure and pushed me down the stairs, watching coldly as I bled to death. After opening my eyes again, I had returned to the day my brother was shot at the library.