7 Years By Graham Novels & Stories

"What should we do, Zach? Claire seems to be really mad." Joe Newman, Zachary's butler, stepped in to comfort Louise. "Don't worry, Ms. Foster. Ms. Stewart is just throwing a tantrum. I've been working here for almost five years now, and she's said similar things at least ten times. But despite that, she has never stopped wanting to marry Mr. Gardner, has she? "In any case, her family has gone bankrupt. Life would be very hard for her if she left Mr. Gardner. You have nothing to worry about."

“I’m glad you two had fun last night.” I groan softly. “Maybe too much fun.” I lean my head against my hand and squint at her. “There’s no such thing,” she replies firmly. “You deserve to enjoy yourself.” She studies me for a moment, then adds with a small grin, “Also… Carter looked worse than you did this morning.” I scoff. “You’re older than him,” she continues. “That’s impressive.” “I’m not that much older.” Seven years. But who’s counting. Once you’re fully grown, age differences blur anyway. Unless someone’s talking about entire decades, nobody really keeps score.

WINTER "What exactly do I have?" I whisper the question under my breath as I drag my suitcase back toward the house. My arms ache. My pride aches more. Seven years. That’s how long I’ve been with Mike. Seven years of loving him, feeding him, funding his education, and believing that we were building something real.

"Rosalia, I was wrong… Please come back." Just then, a wave carried a drifting bottle onto the beach. Inside was a yellowed piece of paper containing my neat handwriting. "Jared, by the time you read this, I will be gone for good. Not just gone, but never existed at all. The system gave me seven days. I could have fixed everything, but what you did was enough to make me give up. Farewell. I hope you and Melody find happiness."

Dead on impact. The Reaper felt bad for me—said I didn't deserve to go out like that. Gave me seven days. One last shot to say goodbye. When I came back, it was already dark. I kept thinking—I wish I had wings. Maybe they were waiting. But under the moonlight, as I got closer, I saw through the dining room window— Alex, sitting between my parents. Brian and Ruby, side by side. Red wine. Fancy food. Everyone dressed like they were starring in a holiday ad.

Only then did he see clearly that the figure on stage wasn't Anna at all. "Anna, Clara, where did you go?" Security hauled Micah out of the concert hall while he unconsciously called out our names. But it was far too late now. We'd long since built better lives. … Seven years later, cold moonlight flooded the streets of Lurich on a winter night. Micah stood outside the glass window of my piano studio, watching me guide a student's fingering under the warm yellow lights. I'd pulled my long hair into a loose bun and was gently rocking an autistic boy's hand over the piano keys.

He'd probably forgotten what today was. The fiery passion we shared at the beginning was reduced to cold distance. After being his girlfriend for seven years, I still hadn't heard him say he wanted to marry me. I wasn't stupid or blind to what was happening. When a man dragged things out for seven years, there must be something deeper. Lorenzo paused for a moment, then spoke with a hint of impatience. "I've told you. When the company goes public, I'll marry you. Don't keep bringing this up."

“I thought Bailey was a tough nut to crack, but she fell head over heels for Jeremy once he pursued her.” “Everyone knows that all along, Jeremy only likes Charlotte. He won’t give other women a single chance.” “I’m really interested to watch Bailey’s reaction once she learns about our bet.” Jeremy Goodman’s friends were teasing him. He snuffed his cigarette and wrapped a scarf around my shoulder. “It’s very windy on the yacht. Don’t catch a cold.” I looked at the man that I had been in a relationship with for seven years and silently disapproved of his friends’ conversation.

I smile as I hold out my hand. “Theo.” He shakes my hand with a smile before setting the food down on top of a table set amidst a sea of brown boxes. “Thank you very much for this.” “You’re welcome. But what’s your last name? I can’t call you by your first name; my mom will have a fit.” He chuckles. “Graham.” “Great, now that we have that settled, Mr. Graham. Do you have kids? Preferably a girl around thirteen?” I point at myself, excitedly.

Grace asked Sherman what she did with her prince charming today, only to hear Sherman say that she saw Billy today. Grace was stunned. But Sherman smiled and said flatly, "I can't believe that I don't know him very well in seven years, but luckily it's not too late." It wasn't too late to figure out the true nature of a person in seven years. If it took twenty years to get to know who he really was, it would be too late, as you would be in your forties. Grace couldn’t understand the meaning of Sherman’s words, but Sherman slowly closed her eyes.