Novels by Anastia Keyz

“What’s the meaning of this?” I stared at the official hologram in my hand, one eyebrow raised. My brain, which had just been completely consumed by divorce drama, suddenly glitch-ed.Jonah leaned back in his chair, folded his arms across his chest, and smiled casually. “That’s my last gift. How about it? You like it, right?”“Huh?” I snorted, staring at him as if he’d just grown a second head. “I’m signing our divorce agreement. Why are you offering me a Marriage Registration Certificate as a gift? What a joke—”“That’s for you and Marco Marten.”The words slipped out, cutting off my protests with surgical precision.I don’t know how long passed after that. What was clear was that a long, absolute silence engulfed the entire room. Not a sound could be heard, not even the hum of the air conditioner. I could only stand still, staring straight into Jonah’s gray eyes. He wasn’t being sarcastic. His gaze was incredibly calm and… serious.“For me and Marco?” I repeated softly, my voice al

"Yeah. A skinny, dirty, flea-ridden stray cat. I found it when I was in elementary school. I sneaked it into the house through the window and hid it in the corner under my bed."I could feel the cold tiles of my old bedroom creeping up to the soles of my feet now. That little gray cat... its ribs clearly protruding from its wet skin. Until the end of its life, I never even gave it a name because my little brain was too afraid to bond.“I gave him leftovers from the kitchen, and he ate them greedily. Maybe he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a full stomach, so he’d swallow anything.”“But then, was it the fifth or sixth day? Just when I was feeling so proud and planning to give him a bath after school…” I swallowed, my throat feeling like it was stuffed with sand. “His body was stiff. His eyes were open, staring blankly from under my bed.”Jonah paused, his shoulders tensing.“Years later, I learn that kittens shouldn’t drink lactose-containing cow’s milk. Their digestive syste

My bedroom door swung open, shattering the silence that had been filled only by the ticking of the clock. Jonah stepped in.“Look what I brought. You’re going to love it!” he exclaimed. He held out a bright red box with a carelessly tied gold ribbon.I leaned back against the pile of pillows, my arms folded across my chest. Seeing Jonah smile so wide that his eyes narrowed, just like a five-year-old who had just won a toy at a fair, sent a strange, amusing sensation to the pit of my stomach. Truly, this man’s good looks sometimes contradicted his demeanor.“What is it?” Jonah pulled up a chair and sat beside my bed. His large hands were now busy pulling at the ends of the gold ribbon, untying the knot, and then opening the lid of the red box. Whatever was in there, Jonah must have brought it with a singular goal: to make me smile. And honestly, this wasn't the first time he'd brought a gift. Last time, he'd given me an antique piece of jewelry that probably paid off half of my par

Have I ever had anyone to care for me when I was sick?The answer is no. In my entire life, I have almost no memory of being cared for. Because since childhood, my survival instincts have always screamed at me not to get sick. I knew my place and value in that house very well. If I got sick, I would only be an extra burden, bothering people, provoking their annoyance, and ultimately, I would have to endure the pain alone in a corner. I grew up with the narrow mindset that everyone in this world faces their pain alone.Eventually, I became friends with Mira in my first year of high school.When the girl contracted dengue fever, her parents, who were already divorced, willingly lowered their egos to take turns caring for her in the hospital.Watching Mira's family's sweet interaction at that time, my stomach felt as if it had been doused with boiling water. Jealousy so intense it made me nauseous. And perhaps because my immune system reacted to that damn stress, for the first time in

“Hazel!”My heart, which had barely started functioning normally, felt like it was being pounded against my ribs. My muscles reflexively tensed, preparing for the wrath I so richly deserved.However, the next second, the giant shrank.He slumped back into the chair. His large, trembling hands reached up, cupping my stiff face, and then he buried his face in my palms. His broad shoulders slumped.“I'm sorry... I'm sorry I yelled at you,” His hot breath brushing against my fingertips.I stared at the top of his messy head. “Was I wrong?” My voice trailed off, sounding cold and numb, even to my own ears. “Honestly, Marco. Men are biologically wired to have a hard time being faithful. And it's perfectly normal if one day you get bored and like another woman. It's a cliché.”Marco's head jerked up. “I've told you a hundred times, I never liked that woman!”"Still!" I retorted quickly. "Don't you think I'm overreacting? You just chose another woman, a standard jerk-off mistake, but I... I w

The nurses and doctors insisted on calling my situation a "miracle." They came in and out of my room with beaming smiles and sighs of relief, as if I'd just won the Nobel Peace Prize, not just woken up from a long, miserable coma. After nearly a month of living at the mercy of machines, supplementary oxygen forcing my lungs to expand, liquid nutrition dripped through a tube, and a cocktail of high-dose medications sustaining my heartbeat, I could finally open my eyes.Honestly? Almost my entire body from the neck down felt numb. Completely numb. But at least my eyeballs could roll and my mouth could move steadily enough to swallow food.I'd started chewing normal food, free from that damn tube that had previously made my throat feel like it was being sanded. And most importantly, my lungs were pumping air on their own. Every time the nurses came in to check my vitals, they'd smile and thank me for holding on. It made me laugh a little. Why were they the ones thanking me? I felt lik