Novels by TeeKay

The days that followed were a slow and quiet process of healing. For the first time since my marriage, our world narrowed down to just the two of us. We were confined to the hospital room, a small, sterile bubble where the past couldn't intrude. The outside world with its expectations and its betrayals was a distant memory.I spent my days with him, reading to him from the books I had brought. We talked about everything and nothing. The conversations were simple, yet they held more truth than any we had ever shared. He told me about the accident. A reckless driver, a slick road. He wasn't at fault, but he was bruised and broken all the same. He spoke of the fear he felt, not of dying, but of losing me for good."I was so close to having everything I ever wanted," he admitted one afternoon, his voice still weak. "And I thought I had thrown it all away."I held his hand, my thumb tracing the knuckles. "We both almost did."He looked at me, his eyes earnest and sincere. "I know I can't e

The quiet of the little house was no longer a refuge; it had become a test. For weeks, I had built a fortress of solitude, and now the silence felt like an echo of a life I was actively avoiding. The daily phone calls from Damian had been a fragile bridge back to the world, a tether I hadn't realized I was holding so tightly. But the calls had stopped. One day, two, and then a third. The silence wasn't just a missed conversation; it was a loud absence that filled every room.I tried to tell myself it was a good thing. A step toward true independence. My peace couldn't hinge on a phone call. I knew that intellectually. Emotionally, it was a different matter. My mind conjured a dozen scenarios. Had he given up? Had he decided I wasn't worth the effort? Or was he simply busy, a mundane reason that was far less dramatic than the rest? I paced the length of my small living room, the unfinished canvases on the easel mocking my composure.I picked up my phone, my thumb hovering over his name.

The scent of rain and wet earth clung to the air, a familiar comfort after the storm. I stood by the window in what had been Grandpa Richard's study, now a silent monument to his absence. My fingers traced the intricate carving on his old wooden desk, a small detail I'd never noticed before. The house was quieter than ever. The staff moved with a hushed reverence. Damian was somewhere on the grounds, I assumed. He'd been distant, and I hadn't pushed him for company.The letter was still in my pocket, the paper soft and worn from my touch. His words were a map out of the dark. I needed to let go of what I couldn’t fix. I needed to embrace what I could still heal. The finality of his death had a strange effect on me. It didn’t break me as I thought it would. Instead, it carved out a space for something new. I wasn’t a wife anymore. I wasn't just a daughter. I was a woman.A gentle knock on the door broke my trance. It was Declan. He wore a dark blue suit, his posture calm and assured. H

The sound of rain tapping against the window filled the silence of the room. I sat on the edge of my bed, clutching the worn photograph Grandpa had given me years ago. It was of us... my head resting on his shoulders, both of us laughing. He always said I was his second chance at life. And now… it felt like that life was slipping through my fingers.The call had come just an hour ago.“Emmah… you should come. It’s time.”I couldn’t breathe when the nurse said those words. I knew Grandpa hadn’t been feeling well, but we all thought it was just another scare like the stroke, like the fainting spells. But this time it was different. This time, it was terminal.The air in my chest felt heavy as I drove through the familiar streets. The same streets he’d once taught me to drive,thinking I didn’t know how to. The memories that were once sweet and gentle were painful now. I wanted to go back to when all he needed was rest and a cup of warm ginger tea. Not... this.The hospital smelled like an

The sterile smell of the clinic clung to my skin like guilt. It was cold and sharp.I sat on the narrow hospital bed, my fingers curled into fists, stomach in knots, eyes dry from too much crying and not enough sleeping. The dim lighting above buzzed faintly, making me even more tense.I had signed the papers. I had gone through all the counselling. I had thought about it over and over again until it burned a hole in my soul.And now it was time.“Are you sure about this?” the nurse asked gently, her voice trying to soften the weight of the moment.I gave the smallest nod. “Yes.”The child growing inside me was innocent but I wasn’t. I had been naive. I had believed in love... in Damian. In the dream of a perfect family. But reality had ruined it all.I couldn't tie myself to a man who shattered me just because I was quiet and acted a fool.I wasn’t going to be a puppet in someone else’s fairytale, not anymore.“Alright,” the nurse whispered, touching my hand briefly before walking ou

Emmah’s POVThe air in the Richard mansion was as heavy as ever. I walked in that night with more silence than I left with, my heels echoing faintly against the marble tiles. No one asked me where I had been. No one dared. Grandpa was resting, Damian was in his study pretending to be busy, and Tasha... well, she had disappeared like smoke after a fire.I headed straight to the bedroom, our bedroom but it didn’t feel like mine anymore. The scent of cologne and the faint sweetness of roses still hung in the air. Someone had placed a fresh bouquet in a glass vase by the window. I didn’t care to find out who.I slipped out of my heels and walked barefoot to the window. Outside, the moonlight spilled over the manicured lawns like silver dust. I let my hand trail down to my belly. A small flutter beneath my skin. A heartbeat that wasn’t mine.But I didn’t feel connected to it. Not anymore.My father’s words echoed louder in my head than the baby’s silent presence. “I want you to meet someon