5 Years From Now Book Novels & Stories

I jumped on my bed and checked my phone, seeing a text notification plastered on my screen. Of course it just had to be my damned mother. Who else could it be? Lyssa Hendrix, the "queen" of the mafia. She was nothing better than my father; if anything, she was worse. She was cold, brutal, and didn't care about anything but herself. It disgusted me. I opened my phone, reading the text. "You're coming clubbing with me tomorrow. It's going to be so much fun!"

"We partied too hard last night and forgot to use protection—don't forget to buy morning-after pills for your wife." Looking at the woman's smooth bare back and the red mole on her neck in the photo, I felt absolutely nothing. Again. Five years of marriage, and this wasn't the first time. Kathy liked to test me this way. She called it her "little experiment." The first time, she "accidentally" left a receipt for condoms on the nightstand. I got angry and confronted her, but she just smiled with contempt. "Why are you so petty? My girlfriends and I bought that on purpose just to see how you'd react." The second time was on our wedding anniversary. A guy showed up at our door with a bouq

My tone and voice were sharp, reflecting all the feelings I had bottled up. He fell silent. His face tensed, as if he wasn’t ready to face my firmness. "I—I don’t know where to start. In these five years... I've realized something." I held back a bitter laugh. "In these five years, I’ve realized many things, one of which is that life without you has turned out to be easier than I thought." My words bit, and I knew they were painful for him. He bit his lip, as if holding back something.

Don was quiet for a long time. The kitchen was quiet around them. The birds outside — the May birds, busy with nesting and feeding and singing — provided a background of sound that was so familiar it was almost silent. The kettle clicked as it cooled. The clock on the wall ticked. Don said: "The five books are about this life." Caroline said: "Yes." Don said: "Then the five books will continue being written as long as life continues." Caroline said: "Yes. The four written books are the arguments arrived at. The fifth — the living — continues. The living is the ongoing fifth book. Every journal entry. Every ordinary morning. Every quince harvest and foxglove spring and Thursday walk. The fift

I hope to see you in my next book 😚 Update: March 2025 Book 2 is now available and loaded as next chapters. Hope you continue their journey through Michael and Amy!!!

NORA The wheels hit the floor with a jarring thud, the vibration traveling up through the floorboards and into the soles of my shoes. Theo was a heavy weight against my left shoulder, his breathing deep in sleep. To my right, Lena sat in the aisle seat, studying the safety card. She held it upside down because she had already memorized the right-side-up version and wanted a new challenge. Five years had passed since I left this city. Five years since I had stood at JFK with a wedding ring I had not yet taken off.

And I actually bought it. I forced a smile, but my eyes burned. "You hid it pretty well. So why tell me today?" Before Jessica could answer, Linda slammed her spoon down on the table. Her voice shook with emotion. "Because I want to see my grandson!" She took a deep breath and lowered her voice, as if trying to reason with me. "Michael, I've been good to you, haven't I? I know you're a good kid. But my grandson has been in hiding for five years, and it breaks my heart."

I clutched my chest, gasping for breath as tears blurred my vision. My fists clenched so tightly my nails dug deep into my palms, using the pain to keep myself upright. “Wandi spent a year overseas, recuperating, before she was willing to forgive Neve. In a couple of days, I’ll stage a medical ‘miracle’, stand up again, and let her resume being the Donna. This year is a penance for her willfulness.” Each word of his was uttered coolly, piercing deeper into my heart. “But… it has been a year. Will she buy it?” someone asked hesitantly.

Chapter 11 Five years later Sarah Sarah stood at the kitchen island, flipping golden pancakes on the griddle while the morning sun streamed through the tall windows of their spacious apartment. Five years had changed everything, and yet some mornings still felt beautifully ordinary. “Mom! I can’t find my blue socks!” Oliver’s voice echoed from upstairs, full of five-year-old drama. “Did you check under the bed like I told you yesterday?” Sarah called back, smiling to herself. A pause. Then triumphant shouting. “Found them!”