The Accidental Happiness of Rahman In that little town clinging to the edge of the map like a speck of
Emily lay curled up on the sofa, clutching her lower abdomen. Everything ached, throbbed, and reminded
“I’ve been sick of you since our wedding night! You disgust me! Leave me alone!”
“He looks just like your missing boy,” my fiancée whispered. What happened next left the
“If you think I do nothing for you, try living without me!” Emily snapped. That evening
So, there was this bloke named Edward Whitaker, a proper well-off farmer in the Cotswoldsrolling fields
The air in the restaurant was thick with tension, the clinking of crystal glasses ringing hollow against
*Diary Entry* **”If you think I do nothing for you, try living without me!”** That evening
**Diary Entry** I never imagined my life would take such a turn. Here in the quiet countryside of Devon
“Heres the truth about your fiancée,” Edward said flatly, handing his son a flash drive.