Novels by muritadohbello212

“Third Person's POV”The steady beeping of the heart monitor filled the sterile hospital room, accompanied by the faint scent of antiseptic. Adaline lay motionless on the hospital bed, her pale face contrasting against the stark white sheets. An IV drip was attached to her arm, feeding her body the fluids it desperately needed.Justin stood near the window, arms crossed, his eyes sharply fixated on the city lights beyond. He had found her just in time, barely managing to pull her away from the edge of the bridge before she did something irreversible. It had been years since he last saw her, but he recognized her instantly. The moment she collapsed in his arms, he had acted on instinct, rushing her to the hospital without a second thought.A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. The doctor stepped in, checking Adaline’s vitals. “She’s stable now,” the doctor informed him. “Physically, she’s fine, but she’s severely exhausted and emotionally distressed. She’ll need rest and su

After some miles covered, the cab pulled a stop in front of my mother's house. I stared at the rundown building, faded paint, an old flickering light at he porch, the suffocating presence that's always haunted me, stomach twisting aura. I hadn't been here in months and in all honesty wished it hadn't came down to this. "Miss, are you sure this is the place?" the driver asked, eyeing my hospital gown and bare feet, he probably didn't believe I knew anyone in this residence, but it's not too far from common reasoning looking at how bad I looked at the moment. I didn’t answer. Just reached for the door handle, my hands still trembling, the moment I stepped out, my legs nearly gave out, the sharp pain from my belly grew and stung badly. The driver cursed, rushing to help, but before he got to where I was barely standing, I lifted a hand. “I got it.”Every step toward the house felt like walking on burning coal, the twisted feeling in my stomach grew the closer I was to the door, I wish

I was barely done packing my things and locking my suitcase when my room door slammed opened violently that I felt the walls shakeBefore grasping the moment to react, I got yanked on my hair so hard I was sent stumbling backwards. The feeling of pain surged across my scalp as I gulped, instinctively reaching out to claw at the grip holding me down only to be met with a gaze that couldn't be mistaken. Michael.His face was twisted with rage, his breath ragged as he shoved his phone inches from my face."What the hell is this, Adaline?" he sparked, his fingers still tangled in my hair, pulling just enough to make my scalp burnp. Through my tears, I barely registered the image on the screen.That picture.The one Evelyn had sent. A manipulated lie, To the bare eyes it looked like me and the stranger from outside the bar were about to have an intimate embrace, but it was all a lie, edited an altered from the fact I was fighting to get away. "You think you can make a fool of me?" Michae

Tears burned my eyes as I stumbled back, gripping the door handle with trembling fingers. My throat tightened, suffocating the sob that fought to escape.I slammed the door shut, hard enough to rattle the frame. For a fleeting second, I wished the whole damn building would collapse on them.Then, I ran.The bar’s pounding music and the stench of alcohol and sweat surrounded me, but I barely noticed. My heart pounded as I shoved past people, their laughter and cheers a cruel contrast to the agony twisting inside me.I needed air.I needed to breathe.I needed to get the hell out of here.By the time I reached the parking lot, my face was wet with tears. I wiped at them furiously, but they wouldn’t stop. My vision blurred, and I nearly missed my car. But before I could reach it—Someone stepped in front of me.The stranger from earlier.Leaning against my car, a cigarette dangling lazily from his fingers, he smirked. His messy hair and unshaven face made him look even more intoxicated t

I took a quick look at the wall clock, 9:17PMWhere is he?I had eaten dinner already, alone as usual, at this point it was becoming normal to not have him at the dinning table. Taking a glance at his food,well served and untouched, looking back at me, the food already grew cold. I murmured with annoyance, tapping my fingers on the table trying to calm my nervesThe routine of late coming from work was becoming awfully frequent these past few weeks, but he always had something to dish out as excuse, be it having to cover for a colleague or having extra meeting or traffic, Micheal never disappointed in having a comeback to when I questioned his tardiness coming back from work, but it had gotten to his stage where I doubt I was going to buy those bullcrap anymore. Picking up my phone, I dialed his number, no answer, tried it a couple more times and still no answer, rather I got sent to the voicemail, my annoyance became frustration. Two years into this marriage and the bond between me