LOGINIn the quiet, watchful town of Willow Creek, nineteen-year-old Rihanna has learned that loving too loudly is dangerous. Once betrayed by her first love and turned into a subject of gossip, she has spent a year and a half building walls around her heart. She is vibrant, outspoken, and endlessly warm—but in a town that mistakes kindness for weakness, she is labeled as someone unworthy of being chosen. When a pandemic lockdown brings an unexpected message from Dennis, the wealthy boy she has admired from afar her entire life, Rihanna allows herself to hope again. What begins as playful late-night conversations and secret meetings soon grows into something far more fragile and intense. Dennis sees her in ways no one ever has—but he is also bound by fear, reputation, and a need for control that clashes with Rihanna’s free-spirited nature. As their connection deepens, Rihanna is forced into her own survival game: choosing between shrinking herself to fit someone else’s expectations or standing fully in who she is, even if it means losing love. When Dennis offers her only something casual, she must confront the truth about what she deserves—and whether she is willing to risk her heart again. *Almost Yours* is a story about emotional survival, self-worth, and the courage it takes to grow beyond heartbreak. In a world that demands women make themselves smaller to be loved, Rihanna’s journey asks a powerful question: when love returns, will she choose it—or herself?
View MoreRihanna didn’t cry.That surprised her most.She walked the length of the street with her hands tucked into her coat pockets, the city moving around her in practiced indifference. Somewhere nearby, a café door opened and released the smell of coffee. A bus hissed to a stop. A couple laughed too loudly on the corner, wrapped in a life that had nothing to do with hers.London didn’t pause for heartbreak.And somehow, that helped.She walked without direction at first, letting her feet decide. Every step felt deliberate, grounding—proof that she was still here, still moving, still capable of choosing what came next. The image from earlier tried to resurface, but it didn’t land the same way anymore. It felt distant, like something she’d already survived.Her phone vibrated in her pocket.She ignored it.She didn’t need to check to know who it was. Dennis had always reached louder when he realized he’d lost control. Apologies came fast then, tangled with excuses and urgency, as if speed co
Rihanna saw it by accident.That was the cruel part.She wasn’t looking for Dennis. She wasn’t scrolling with that quiet hope she hated herself for. She was standing in her kitchen, kettle boiling, phone propped against a jar of sugar while Andy sent her a voice note about the underground being a mess that morning.The screen lit up.A name she didn’t recognize.A message request.Curiosity, not expectation, made her open it.And then the world narrowed to a single image.Dark. Blurry. Intimate in a way that didn’t need explanation. A woman’s thigh. A man’s hand resting there like it belonged. A watch she knew too well.Dennis.Her stomach dropped—not dramatically, not violently. Just a slow, hollow collapse, like something giving way after being cracked for too long.She stared at the screen, waiting for the feeling she’d imagined this moment would bring.Anger.Jealousy.Devastation.None of it came.Instead, there was a strange, almost unsettling calm.So this is how it happens, sh
Dennis missed her in ways that didn’t make sense.Not in the loud, cinematic way people talked about. Not in the way that made you run through airports or cry into your hands. He missed her in the small, stupid moments—reaching for his phone without thinking, hearing a laugh on TV that sounded like hers, turning his head at the wrong time because his brain still expected to see her on the porch across the street.He missed her most when he had nothing else to fill the space.And that was the problem.Because Dennis didn’t know how to sit with emptiness.He knew how to win. How to charm. How to be wanted without having to want anyone back. For twenty years, he’d been the guy girls leaned toward—hands on his arm, smiles too practiced, invitations that required no commitment.He was the one who decided.Not the one who waited.Rihanna had flipped that without even trying.She hadn’t chased him. She hadn’t begged. She hadn’t clung to him when he started pulling away. She’d done something
London smelled different.Rain and metal and something sharp she couldn’t name. Rihanna noticed it the moment she stepped out of the airport, the air cooler than she expected, heavier somehow. The city moved fast around her—heels clicking, suitcases rolling, voices overlapping in accents she recognized only from screens.She stood still for a second too long.Andy noticed.“First day always hits,” he said gently, taking her suitcase before she could object. “Come on. The car’s this way.”He was exactly as he’d sounded on the phone—polite, efficient, kind without expectation. He talked as they drove, filling the silence with useful things. Neighborhood names. Transport routes. Where to buy groceries without spending half her rent. Which cafés stayed open late.Rihanna listened, nodding, smiling when she remembered to.The house surprised her.It was tucked into a quiet street lined with trees just beginning to turn, brick warm against the grey sky. From the outside, it looked narrow li


















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