Novels by Jess

>*You were so arrogant, so clueless. You just... you made me feel so pathetic. You thought life was easy, you thought life was so simple because your parents gave you everything. Then imagine when I suddenly realized that your father was my father, and you were just an adopted child they took up somewhere and decided to raise as theirs. Do you realize how my anger ran deep? You were treated like a princess, you were practically worshipped, revered as a god, while me, the real daughter, the one that should've gotten all the credit, didn't even get crumbs. Then your mother constantly hating on me, seeing me as a leech. Everyday, I lived with this indelible memory of me being nothing but your counterfeit.* > I couldn't move on reading. I stopped, struggling to catch my breath as the room seemed to shrink around me. Till the end, Sarah was still a bitch! Till the end, that bitch can't see how much she made my life miserable, how she made my life go from hundred to zero? I was arroga

I tossed to the other side of the bed to see his face clearly. "I'm happy," I admitted, a genuine smile touching my lips. "I've never felt this sort of warmth in a while. I ate a hearty meal, talked about so many things tonight, and now I'm just so tired."Daniel smiled at me, a deep sense of relief washing over his features. "Thank you.""For what?""For coming here," he said, his voice dropping into a tender, earnest register. "I've always wanted you to get so curious, or maybe someday come see where I live. Alex is so happy to see you today. He's been waiting for this for a very long time."Those words warmed my heart, and for the next few days, I didn't want to go home. I didn't even bother to. I just sat around in their borrowed clothes, completely content as Daniel ordered personal stuff for me. I just loved being in a space that smelled like a home, making me feel like I had finally come back to my mother. It reminded me so much of returning to the steaming food Mom used to c

He rubbed a hand at the back of his neck, "We married on the day father died. The day of the accident..." He slurred out, and my face paled even more. He accompanied the devastating revelation with a sadder smile before speaking again, "Here, let me take you to a room you will stay for the night."I didn't say anything. The room was spinning as I followed him down the short hallway into a guest bedroom."You can stay here, take a bath and refresh yourself," he said gently. He reached out, helping me by taking the crumpled white envelope from my stiff fingers and placing it safely on the nightstand. "Don't think too much about what happened today and just try to refresh yourself. Alex is cooking something for you to eat, and he's such a good cook."As he spoke, a profound, heavy realization washed over me. I stared at him, seeing the subtle lines of exhaustion around his eyes, realizing just how much I truly didn't know about him. For over a year now, I had consumed his entire existenc

I didn't say another word. I couldn't. Clutching the envelope so tightly that the paper crumpled beneath my fingers, I turned away and headed straight for the car.Daniel joined me later in the car and drove us away, heading home. The silence inside the vehicle was suffocating, heavy with the weight of the cemetery we had just left behind."Are you okay?" Daniel asked, his eyes darting from the road to my pale face."Daniel, just drive," I muttered, staring straight ahead. "I need to get home and calm my head."Daniel drove quietly, not even increasing the car's speed, but going carefully and steadily through the light drizzle until the tires crunched to a halt on the familiar driveway. I blinked, the haze in my mind clearing just enough for me to look out the window. My stomach dropped. The car had stopped in front of Cillian’s penthouse."I don't think I want to stay here today," I told Daniel, my voice tight. "Take me to a hotel or to Father’s house.""I think here is much safer,"

Chapter One Hundred and Eighty Five This was the point I should vent. But venting to who? To the dead? Or to her? Was I really supposed to yell at a grieving mother over the casket of her child?Instead, I stepped forward and hugged her, our bodies pressing into each other as she sobbed against my shoulder. The truth was, I did love Sarah. From the bottom of my heart, I had wanted the best for her, and once upon a time, we wanted the best for each other. And yet, we ended up like this. Torn apart, and like this...She should've died after telling me she was sorry. She should've died after saying just one word to assure me that not everything about our memories was fake. If she had left me with a sliver of truth, maybe I wouldn't be so tormented. Maybe then I could remember most of those sweet memories that haunt me now, and think about Sarah as the person who actually came through for me.Like the one time I nearly took my life, and she saved me.But Sarah had changed. In the end,

"There's no way Cillian treated me nicely. The last thing he said to me if I remember is..." That I might have been the one who killed Sarah myself. So why? Is this some trick he's playing on me again? What is he planning on doing this time that he wants to mess with me? Am I succumbing to that? Am I really going to give him that satisfaction, hell no. I'm not going to give him the satisfaction, to think he'd won. Dragging my heavy limbs out of bed, I walked into the bathroom. The hot water felt like a lifeline against my aching muscles, washing away the lingering chill of the storm and the sticky residue of the fever. I leaned my head against the tiled wall, letting the steam clear my thoughts until my skin was flushed pink.Back in the bedroom, I opened the wardrobe. A funeral demanded a specific armor.I pulled out a long-sleeved, high-necked black dress. It was simple, completely devoid of any embellishments, and clung to my frame in a way that felt more like a shield than a fa