I tried to kill the woman flirting with my boyfriend. He carried me out before I could.

My mom married a demon. His son is unfairly hot. The contract was a mistake.

I found a second phone in his gym bag. He was planning our wedding. I told everyone he was dying.

An algorithm predicted our breakup. Now it wants to show me why.

He sits in the back of AP Physics and doesn't know my schedule. (He does.)

He relives the same Tuesday. She forgets him every morning. He can't stop falling.

I asked my best friend to fake it. She said yes. Neither of us expected the truth.

I'm his fake fiancée. Six months, no touching, no falling. We broke every rule by week two.

Same routine for fifteen years. Then my cement pig vanished. Then postcards from Paris arrived.

Scandal photos could end his career. Unless I can spin a miracle.