Well Bye Meme Mga Nobela at Kwento

My mother had been hospitalized. My boyfriend worked as a doctor at the same hospital. You would think he would have visited her often, but he never did. Not once. On the first day of her stay, he did not come because he had taken a day off. His childhood friend was moving, and she needed his help. On the second day, that same childhood friend appeared at the hospital as an intern. He followed her everywhere and showed her the ropes. He handled anything she asked for, no matter how small. It went on like that, day after day. My mother's ward was on the thirteenth floor. His office was on the seventeenth. All it would have taken was a ten-second elevator ride or a two-minute walk down the stairs. Even so, Sebastian did not visit her for more than twenty days. My mother recovered. I picked her up by myself and took her to the train station. While I was on the way, he texted me. Sebastian: [Suzy's pet dog is getting vaccinated today. I need to drive her there first.] This time, I replied. [Got it. Drive safely. By the way, we're over.]

My mother was dying. Her only wish before she passed was to see me married. For 27 days, I begged my girlfriend, Monica Teller, and she finally agreed to register for marriage with me on the 27th day. I waited at the courthouse until closing, but she never came. That same day, her childhood sweetheart, Gurney Barnes, posted their marriage certificate on social media. [Time sure flies. Three more days, and we'll have been married for a month.] It was then I finally realized that she had married her childhood sweetheart since the first day I started begging her. Not long after, an apology text from Monica buzzed on my phone. [I'm so sorry, Lincoln. Gurney's family was forcing him into marriage. I couldn't stand by and watch him get shackled to a stranger. Just give it three days. We'll file for divorce. Three days later, I'll marry you." Three days later, she showed up at the courthouse in a wedding gown, But the only thing waiting for her was my message. [Goodbye, Monica. May we never meet again.]

"I reject you! Lucas Archer Farrow from the White Walkers Pack! From now on, I will be nobody's Luna but myself!" The youngest multi-billionaire Alpha in werewolf history turned out to be a woman. Leah Lewyn walked out of the airport in low profile and was immediately surrounded by hundreds of paparazzi. "Why did you reject your ex-husband, Alpha Lucas of the White Walkers?" a reporter asked. "Are you kidding me? I've got my own wolf pack to run and a gazillion-dollar fortune to inherit," she replied. "Is it true that you're currently having affairs with 8 young actors at the same time?" another reporter inquired. "Give me a break," Leah rolled her eyes and chuckled. "They're young aspiring contract models." She barely finished her words before someone walked out of the crowd and stated in a cold voice, "She is currently having an affair with no one else but me, her one and only ex-husband." "Miss Lewyn, I've got a wolf pack to run and a gazillion dollars as well. Why don't you come and be my Luna, so you can inherit my money?"

To protect the assistant who had been evading taxes, she deliberately gave false testimony in her role as my superior's wife, putting all the blame on me. I protested endlessly, but the law held me accountable. I was imprisoned for two months. Upon release, my colleagues turned against me, ostracizing me and destroying my promotion chances. Seeing that I neither cried nor caused a scene, my wife assumed that I had finally submitted. She even threatened to make amends with a lavish wedding for me. However, during the wedding vows, the assistant, suddenly overtaken by jealousy, ran to the company rooftop and threatened my wife with suicide to force her to cancel the wedding. My wife, who had always been obedient to him, panicked. She abandoned everyone at the ceremony and spent the entire night comforting her assistant. Afterwards, she calmly explained: "Wilson is young and impulsive. I was just afraid he might get hurt. Besides, you were released from prison so early thanks to him. He helped a lot. By right, he's still your lifesaver. I couldn't just abandon him." I looked at the couple rings she had just put on her finger, let out a faint hum, and said nothing. She believed I accepted her excuse and was pleased, even making an unprecedented promise: once she had calmed the assistant, she would take me on a honeymoon. However, she seemed to have forgotten one thing. She had already signed the divorce papers, and I had filed a lawsuit in court to have the case heard. From that moment on, we were no longer husband and wife. We were only plaintiff and defendant.

I was three months pregnant when the car crash happened. In those final moments of fading consciousness, I frantically dialed Damian’s private, encrypted line—the one meant only for emergencies. He never picked up. By the time I was rushed into surgery, I received a crushing blow: Damian had forcibly reassigned my lead private physician to the South District. He needed the best doctor to treat his childhood sweetheart, Evelyn, who had just been widowed. When I finally drifted awake through a haze of agony, my trembling fingers swiped open Instagram. I saw Evelyn’s latest post: “I knew that no matter the distance or the time, Damian would move heaven and earth to reach me. He even brought his Chief Physician just to help me heal from my grief.” In the accompanying photo, Damian—a man known for his cold, lethal eyes—was gazing at the woman beside him with a tenderness I hadn't seen in years. While I was clawing my way back from the brink of death, fighting to save our child, my husband was playing protector to another pregnant woman. A hollow, self-deprecating laugh escaped my lips. Without a second thought, I slid the wedding band off my ring finger. I opened my inbox and hit "Confirm" on the invitation from the world’s most elite International Finance Institute. If Evelyn is all he cares about, I’ll give them my blessing. In seven days, I will vanish from his world forever—and I’m taking my baby with me.

When my appendix bursts, my parents, my brother, and even my fiancé are all too busy celebrating my sister's birthday. I'm outside the operating room, frantically calling every family member I can think of to sign the consent form, but every call is either ignored or hung up on. After hanging up on me, my fiancé, Joel Graham, texts back. "Sophie, stop being dramatic. It's Yvette's 18th birthday today. Whatever it is can wait until after the party." I quietly set my phone down and sign the consent form myself. It's the ninety-ninth time they've chosen Yvette Norton, my sister, over me. This time, I choose not to care. I'll stop letting their favoritism hurt me. Instead, I'll do everything they ask of me without complaint. They'll all think I've finally learned to be obedient, and they'll never realize that I'm preparing to leave them for good.

“You really think a chrome leash makes me yours?” Timothy’s voice was a jagged shard of glass, his pulse thrumming frantically against the cold metal of the Blackwell collar. Kan leaned in, the scent of expensive bourbon and gunpowder clinging to him. He captured Timothy’s chin, forcing those defiant lavender eyes to meet his own. “It doesn’t make you mine, little ghost. It just keeps you still long enough for me to show you why you’ll never want to leave.” Behind him, Gideon’s shadow fell over them both, heavy and suffocating. “Careful, Kan,” the enforcer rumbled, his knuckles still stained with the blood of the men who’d tried to stop them. “He’s a reaper. He doesn't want a home. He wants a body count.” One Ghost. Two Predators. No Escape. Timothy Gal is a shadow. A high-level operative for the Nash Rebellion, he’s spent his life as a nameless tool in the war-torn Sopttyi District. He doesn’t feel, he doesn’t miss, and he certainly doesn't belong to anyone. But when a routine surveillance mission in Saati Town goes south, he catches the eye of the two most dangerous men in the Blackwell Mafia. Gideon Blackwell is the muscle—a man of controlled violence and territorial hunger. Kan Nelblack is the mind—a predator with a silver tongue and a taste for absolute submission. They don’t just want Timothy’s secrets. They want his soul.

We'd been legally married for seven years, yet my CEO "fiance", Jared Lane, had ditched me at the altar thirteen times. At our first wedding, his assistant, Maeve Fischer, scraped her leg. I spent the entire day waiting alone at the ceremony. At our second wedding, he heard she was sick and tossed the wedding ring away to rush to her side. On every wedding day after that, some accident would conveniently happen to her. By the 13th time he bailed, I had had enough and decided to walk away. But when I found comfort in another man's arms, Jared lost his mind trying to win me back.

Five years ago, my junior made a mistake in the experiment, resulting in an explosion in the lab. In an effort to save my childhood friend, Andrew, I suffered severe burns to one side of my face and was falsely accused as the culprit. Just like that, I became the target of everyone's anger. Only Andrew stood by me, promising, "I love you for who you are, not your appearance. I'll always be there to protect you." But on our wedding day, he vanished without a trace. My mother, suffering from heart disease and barely clinging to life, wanted to see Andrew. When I asked him to come, he replied impatiently, "Are you using such a lame excuse to meet me? Don't you have any shame? Every time I look at your face, I feel disgusting." I pleaded desperately, but he calmly hung up. "Do you think I'm your servant? You can't just summon me whenever you want. Just because you saved me once doesn't mean you can blackmail me for life." My mother died without peace. The junior who slandered me back then later posted a photo on social media, showing a man lifting her effortlessly. Their poses were intimate, highlighting the underlying affection. Her captions read: [It's all his fault for tiring me out during the day. I almost missed out on this beautiful ocean. When you're in love, all is clear to see. I mentioned wanting to go to Belmar Island, and he flew me around the world for it.] I was utterly heartbroken, so I texted him: [Let's break up…]

My husband did not love me, and he certainly did not love our child. On the day our son was born, he did not even glance at him. He merely tossed him into my arms. Then, his first love came back from overseas. That night, the ever-cold Henry had gotten drunk for the first time. He even smiled as he held our child in his arms. Delighted, our son wrapped his little arms around my husband's neck and asked me in a soft voice, “Mommy, what’s wrong with Uncle?” I crouched down, pulling him into my embrace. My eyes reddened as I explained, “Uncle's favorite person came back, so we shouldn’t bother him anymore. We’re going to find a new home.”