Novel & Cerita A Gentle Reminder

Renovating the cabin too, finally adding that second bedroom and expanded kitchen. The message was friendly but appropriately distant, acknowledging our past connection without dwelling on it. A perfect response, really—reassuring me that he held no ill will while maintaining the boundaries they had established. A second message followed before I could decide whether to reply: *I hope Riverview is treating you well. You deserve all good things, including the fresh start you wanted. Take care of yourself.* Simple. Kind. Final.

It was like his words were stitched into my brain, and no amount of tossing or turning could pull them out. Just when I thought I might finally drift off, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. I ignored it at first. Maybe it was some late-night notification or a random app trying to get my attention. But then it buzzed again. And this time, the screen lit up, the glow cutting through the dark. I reached over and grabbed it, hoping for nothing, expecting something dumb. It was just a reminder. Noah’s Birthday. My chest tightened a little. Not in a bad way, just… guilt, maybe. That quiet kind that creeps up when you realize you forgot something you shouldn’t have. I stared at the screen, the word

🪶 Stepping into Part 94—this one hums like an exchange that doesn’t need words. A quiet passing of gestures, objects, and intention. It’s about showing up gently, even when closeness feels uncertain. Days passed, and the mural Jo and Franc once painted together remained untouched—still there, still unfinished. But something shifted: each morning, one would leave something near it. Not notes. Not apologies. Just quiet acknowledgments. Jo placed a sprig of dried rosemary on the windowsill. Its scent lingered in the cold morning air, dry and brittle against the faint warmth of the sun. She had chosen it because rosemary meant remembrance, and this gesture felt like a whisper instead of an expl

As the screen glowed, I smiled faintly, remembering the faces in the boardroom earlier — the nods of approval, the look of genuine appreciation. It had been so long since I’d felt that. Maybe… I was finally finding my footing again. The notification sound from my phone broke the quiet. Ding. I reached for it. “Hope you’ve eaten. Make sure to rest early. Always think about your health.” The sender’s name glowed softly on the screen — Adrian. My lips curved into a small smile. His words were simple, but somehow, they always carried warmth. “Thank you,” I murmured as I typed back. “Make sure to rest too.”

The faint scent of Caesar lingered on my skin, warm and maddening, and my pulse jumped with every thought of him. Then, almost instantly, the screen lit up again,buzzing between my thighs. I turned my phone over and stared at the message, breath catching, heart hammering. > Unknown: No, Kitten. I think it's a reminder. > Unknown: And you could come get them if you want.

I left small notes on her desk or on her laptop. Hope your meeting goes well. Don’t forget to eat today. Nothing extravagant, nothing over-the-top. Just reminders that I was thinking of her, that I noticed her, that I was here. She noticed, of course. I could see it in the way her eyes softened when she read one of my notes, the subtle, almost imperceptible smile that played across her lips when I mentioned one of them casually. I didn’t push. I let the small moments speak for me, letting her realize that my intentions were steady, patient, and genuine.

I need to wisen up. ******************************************

Calantha worried, she said "Then I just leave it like this, don’t I?" Mary comforted, “Don't worry. Wait for another month and the signs will disappear completely. S-rank alphas can store temporary marks for up to a month, but low-grade alphas' marks only last for a maximum of half a month. I don't know if it's lucky or unlucky. And if you want to cover it, it's simple. In this era, science and technology have advanced. You just need to stick the patch, spray the antiperspirant on the Pheromones, then put on your incense bag and then you can go to work as usual. And be careful , okay."

I take it out and click on the message notification. Unknown: "Tears look good on your face."

And I say it likes me because it begins nudging me gently when I wake up. Then, I see that it has angry, bloody marks around its neck. “Hey there….” I look on its underside, “boy. I’m going to check your neck, okay. You look injured.” Instead of screeching at me or blowing fire or something, he croons at me. I take that as a good sign, and I walk up to him. “Ouch. That looks like it hurts.” I gently run my fingers over part of the wound, watching his neck flinch at the touch.