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SEVEN
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2025-04-25 22:05:50
Latest chapter
WRECK ME QUIETLY SIXTY
SAMANTHAThe knocking was loud. Too loud.I jolted upright, heart racing, head pounding.The room was dim—muted gray light spilling through the curtains. I blinked at the clock.11:20 a.m.I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. My eyes stung, dry and swollen from crying. I couldn’t remember when I’d finally passed out. Just that Mason was not here. I wonder when he left my side.But now, someone was banging on my door like they were trying to break it down.I cursed under my breath. “Who the hell is this bastard?”Dragging myself out of bed, I grabbed my robe off the chair and shoved my arms into it. My legs were wobbly. Everything hurt—like heartbreak had crawled into my bones and made itself at home.The knocking didn’t stop.“Hold on!” I yelled, voice hoarse. “I’m coming!”I reached the door, unlatched it, and yanked it open.And froze.Liam.My heart did something weird. Stopped. Tripped. Thumped back to life.Liam’s face was pale when I opened the door.No smirk. No teasing. Ju
WRECK ME QUIETLY HI GUYS!!!
Dear Readers,There are moments when words fail to fully capture the depth of what one feels—and this is one of those moments for me. But I’m going to try, because if you’re reading this, it means you’ve stuck with me and my story through all its messy emotions, broken characters, passionate moments, and quiet heartbreaks. And for that, I owe you more than just a thank you, I owe you my heart.When I started writing this book, I had no idea it would turn into something so personal. So real. I didn’t expect the characters to bleed through the pages or for their pain and love to feel like mine. But what surprised me even more was you—yes, you, the person reading this now. You showed up. You stayed. You listened to my characters cry, fall, rise, and burn. You chose to invest your time, your emotions, your heart... and I can’t explain how much that means to me.Writing can be lonely. It’s just me, a blinking cursor, and an endless internal dialogue. But knowing you were on the other side
WRECK ME QUIETLY FIFTY NINE
MASONHer name lit up my phone at 2:14 a.m.Audrey.I stared at the screen like it might disappear if I blinked hard enough.It didn’t.The glow from the display cast pale blue light across the room, soft enough not to wake Samantha.She was curled beside me, one bare leg tangled with mine, her cheek pressed against my shoulder. Breathing slowly. Steady. Her fingers lightly rested on my chest like she trusted me.Like I was someone worth trusting.God.I swallowed the knot in my throat and gently slid out from under her arm. She murmured something incoherent, then rolled over, clutching the sheet like she felt the shift even in sleep.My thumb hovered over the screen.I didn’t want to answer.But I did.“Hello?”There was a beat of silence. Then—“Mason?” Audrey’s voice came through, barely a whisper. She sounded small. Weak. Fragile in a way that didn’t feel like her.A chill ran down my spine.“I’m here,” I said.“I… I don’t feel okay.” Her voice cracked. “I’m shaking. My chest… I c
WRECK ME QUIETLY FIFTY EIGHT
SAMANTHA“What the fuck?!”I froze.Naked. Breathless. My heart slammed so hard I thought it might actually stop.Mason jerked back, confusion flashing across his face—then panic.“Mace…” My voice cracked. “Oh my God… what are you doing here?”Her mouth opened. Shut. Then she laughed—a short, sharp, hysterical sound that made my skin crawl. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here? With my brother?”I scrambled off the bed so fast I nearly tripped. My nightgown was halfway across the room. I dove for it, heart thundering, face burning.“I—it’s not what you think—”“Really?” she snapped. “Because what I think is you’re sleeping with Mason. And what I’m seeing is you naked!”Mason ran a hand through his hair, eyes tight. “Macey—”“No. Don’t. Don’t even try.”“Mace, please just listen,” I begged, clutching the nightgown to my chest like it could somehow protect me from the wreckage.She looked at me like I’d stabbed her.“Was this a joke to you?” she asked, voice shaking. “All thos
WRECK ME QUIETLY FIFTY SEVEN
SAMANTHAI froze in the bathroom doorway like my soul had just left my body.“Sam…” Macey’s voice called out from the living room. “Why is my brother texting you?”My heart slammed against my ribs.Crap. Crap. Crap.I rushed out so fast I nearly tripped on the throw blanket. My eyes locked on my phone in her hand.Shit.“Gimme that,” I said, snatching it before she could scroll up and read anything worse.Macey raised her brows, obviously amused.I cleared my throat and forced a smile. “He’s just asking if you’re still coming to the game.”She blinked. “That’s it?”“Yeah.” I nodded way too fast. “He probably forgot you already said yes.”Macey rolled her eyes and dropped back onto the couch. “Ugh. He’s so dramatic. I told him earlier today. Twice.”I laughed. Kind of. “Yeah… he just wanted to be sure.”She grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her chest. “I didn’t even know he had your number.”Neither did I until we started sneaking around behind your back.I fumbled for something—anythi
WRECK ME QUIETLY FIFTY SIX
SAMANTHAI walked fast, eyes on the floor, fingers curled tight around the envelope. My internship application was due at noon, but that wasn’t why my pulse was going crazy.Audrey’s belly was getting rounder. Mason’s silence was getting louder.And me? I was just the girl who disappeared when things got too real.I should feel guilty.I should feel disgusted.But I didn’t.I just felt scared.Scared I’d already lost him.I turned the corner near the admin wing and slammed straight into someone. Or rather—someone’s arm.A firm hand grabbed my wrist, and before I could react, I was yanked into the narrow hallway that led to the old drama room. My back hit the wall, the envelope fell to the floor.I looked up—and my breath stopped.“Mason,” I breathed, heart in my throat.His jaw was tight. Eyes darker than I remembered. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.“I had to see you,” he said. His voice was low, raw. Like it physically hurt him to say the words.“What are you doing?” I hisse
WRECK ME QUIETLY FIFTY FIVE
MASONAudrey was still talking.Something about baby names now. Maybe curtains. Maybe both.I sat on the edge of the couch, elbows on my knees, staring at the carpet like it held all the answers I didn’t want.“And I was thinking something neutral for the nursery walls, like sage green,” she said, flipping through a Pinterest board on her phone. “Or that dusty blush color that’s in right now. You think sage would feel too cold? Mason?”I blinked.“Hmm?”She gave me a look, half amusement, half impatience. “Are you even listening?”I nodded like I was. “Sage is good.”She brightened. “Right? That’s what I thought. And I found these little bunny prints for the walls. So cute.”Her voice blurred again. She kept going—gender reveals, photographers, dresses for her bump, names that sounded like they came from a baby brand catalog.She was yapping like this was the happiest thing that ever happened to her.Maybe it was.But all I could think was how much I hated myself.I wasn’t even in my
WRECK ME QUIETLY FIFTY FOUR
SAMANTHAThe banging started again.I jolted awake, heart slamming into my ribs like it had somewhere better to be.My apartment was dim, the air stale, like even the walls had given up. I’d drawn the blinds seven days ago and hadn’t opened them since.I hadn’t eaten much. Missed class. Avoided everyone. Especially her.“Sam!” Macey’s voice, muffled through the door but impossible to ignore. “Open the damn door!”I curled tighter under the blanket. My limbs ached in that hollow, useless way that came from doing nothing for too long.“I swear to God,” she continued, “if you don’t answer me in the next ten seconds, I’m calling Mom.”She meant my mom.Which was worse. But I knew she wouldn’t. She loved my mom too much to make her worry.Then another voice joined hers—lower, calmer, too familiar.“Samantha,” Liam said. “Please. We’re worried.”My stomach twisted. I hated that he sounded gentle.I didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just stared at the ceiling, wishing it would cave in and take me w
WRECK ME QUIETLY FIFTY THREE
SAMANTHAI woke up before dawn.The city was still asleep, tucked beneath a velvet sky that didn’t care how broken I felt. But my mind wasn’t sleeping.It hadn’t rested in hours. It was loud—cluttered with memories, regret, and the silence that had taken root between my ribs.Mason’s arm was draped across my waist, heavy and possessive, like even in sleep he couldn’t let go. And I hated how much I loved that weight.I hated that part of me wanted to sink back into it, bury my face in his chest, and pretend none of this was real.But it was.And pretending was what got me here in the first place.His breath was slow. Peaceful. He looked like mine.But he wasn’t.“My Mason,” I whispered in my head. “How I love you. How stupid I was to dream.”The tears didn’t fall. Not yet. But they pricked at the corners of my eyes like they were waiting for the perfect moment to betray me.I slipped out from under his arm, slow and careful.The sheets rustled faintly, but he didn’t stir.Typical Mason
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