Is 'You Gonna Miss Me When I'M Gone' From A Movie?

【Terminal illness+ Betrayal+Bitter Love+werewolf+Regret+ countdown】This is a series of stories, and each can be read independently. I gave him my heart, literally. Three years ago, when Blake was dying from heart failure, I was the only compatible donor. I didn't hesitate, I let them cut out my beating heart and put it in his chest, accepting an artificial replacement that was never meant to last forever. Now my mechanical heart is failing and Blake? He's too busy planning his wedding to another woman to notice I'm dying. Lydia offers him everything I can't, political connections, a path to becoming Alpha, and a future without a sickly mate dragging him down. He calls it a marriage of convenience and promises he'll come back once he has what he wants. But I've spent three years watching him choose her over me. I'm done waiting. In thirty days, I'll undergo the Soul-Severing Ritual. My memories, wolf, and my very existence, all of it will be erased. I will disappear from the world completely. And Blake will finally understand what it feels like to lose someone who loved him with her whole heart.

I died on the day I was supposed to receive the Pack’s Distinguished Service Award. Three hours after I died, my parents, my brother, and my mate were just wrapping up the graduation party they’d thrown for my sister. While my sister, Ella, was posting a cozy family photo on Instagram, I was locked in our basement, using my tongue to swipe on my phone and call for help. The only person who answered was my mate, Ryan. All he said was, "Sophie, cut the drama. Ella's graduation party is important. Enough with the tantrums!" This was the ninety-ninth time they had let me down. And the last. I lay in a pool of my own blood, my lungs still. They thought I was just throwing a fit, hiding somewhere. That if they taught me a lesson, I’d come crawling back. But they didn't know. I was home the whole time. I was already dead.

The day Calista Everhart gets divorced, her divorce papers end up splashed online, becoming hot news in seconds. The reason for divorce was highlighted in red: "Husband impotent, leading to an inability to fulfill wife's essential needs." That very night, her husband, Lucian Northwood, apprehends her in the stairwell. He voice was low as he told her, "Let me prove that I'm not at all impotent …"

My ex-best friend's birthday is also my mother's death anniversary. When I see Susan Lloyd picking a birthday cake with Hans Luther, I know she's going to snatch my husband after snatching my father from me. I won't let her get away with it, though. I don't want to follow in my mother's footsteps and be forced to jump off a building. So, after ruining Susan's birthday party, I leave the divorce agreement I've prepared and move out of my marital home. It's been less than seven hours since the incident. In that time, I've spent one hour packing, one hour getting to the train station, and three hours getting to my grandmother's house. In my final two hours, I convince my grandmother to let me stay. Hans, I don't want you anymore.

I have zero sense of direction. I could visit a place ten times and still get lost. So Paxton Levis spent an entire week hand-drawing every street around our school onto a set of maps. There was no north, south, east, or west on them. Only labels like "the convenience store with the yellow dog out front" and "the old man who sells terrible hot dogs." He'd ruffle my hair and say, "What would you do without me?" That was how it went, until my best friend Patricia Sandler came back from studying abroad. On our graduation trip together, Paxton told me to get out of the car and check whether something was wrong with it. I'd barely gotten both feet on the ground before the car pulled away without me. A message came through from him. Paxton: [There's a rest stop three kilometers up the road. Patricia and I will wait for you there. Patricia is right. If nobody ever pushes you, you're never going to learn your way around.] I walked for an hour through a downpour, working myself into a panic, before Paxton sent me a hand-drawn map. It had arrows on it, and a cute little smiley face doodled in the corner. [Just follow this. Twenty minutes, tops.] But my legs ached with every step, and the route kept drifting further off course, until I ended up in a dead end. I called Paxton. Patricia's bright laugh came through instead. "Congratulations, sweetie, you took a wrong turn! "Paxton and I made a bet on whether you'd figure out he flipped the arrows on purpose. I said you wouldn't. Guess I know you better than he does. "So for the rest of the trip, it's just going to be Paxton and me. Dragging you along is honestly way too much trouble." Paxton's voice came through next to hers, doting and amused. "A bet's a bet. I'll listen to whatever you want." Depending on someone else comes at too high a price. High enough that when he finally walked away, I didn't even know which direction was which anymore. I wiped my eyes. This time, I want to find my own way.

His songs were better when he had a broken heart. That sentence would change my life after my dream job was dished to me on a shiny, silver platter. All I had to do? Hurt Nash Pierce enough to get him writing good music again. The pop icon’s songs were no longer the phenomena they used to be. His team needed another breakthrough album—like the first he’d penned, using his heartbreak as fuel. The plan was simple: I’d go on tour with him as a backup dancer…and make him fall in love with me. I was hired to inspire—to become embedded into every lyric he wrote. Then, I was to set fire to it all—to destroy every feeling we hoped he’d develop for me. It seemed simple enough. Easy, even. I didn’t expect to be consumed myself—to see so much in the man displayed in the tabloids. I didn’t foresee falling for him. It didn’t occur to me that, while attempting to break his heart, I might just shatter my own. Most of all, I never thought I’d fight so hard to hold on to a relationship that had always been founded on goodbye.