Affair To Remember Novels & Stories

I feel a fire rise in my chest, a hot, furious need to correct him, to make him see, to make him understand. “A mistake?” I say, my voice trembling with a rage I can't contain. “A moment of weakness? I don’t think so. I remember every second. I remember your hands. I remember your mouth. I remember the things you said. It wasn’t a mistake. It was… a moment of truth. A truth you cannot accept”

But tonight, I couldn’t stop my mind from drifting. Her voice faded in and out as I stared at the candlelight trembling across the screen. The small holes in the wooden divider glowed like tiny stars, and in that light, I saw Paul again drenched, shaking, his voice breaking as he said, “I slept with my sister’s husband.” The storm had roared so loud that night, but what I remembered most wasn’t the sound of thunder. It was his silence after that confession. The way it filled the booth was like smoke.

The memory of their past. The past she fought so hard to forget. But how can she forget? It hurts, yes it hurts like hell. Especially when he didn't recall anything that happened between them that first night they met. It was already a decade ago. But it's still fresh in her memory and seemed like it happened only yesterday. To Riana and others, Abel and she started their relationship three years ago, but that was not the truth because their affair began twelve years back when she was just thirteen years old.

Melody looked at Zach dotingly like a woman in love. Zach sure had his way with words. He could easily console Melody with just a few words. I did not listen to the rest of their conversation. My mind was only engrossed in one thing. No wonder Brandon did not like me—he was Melody's husband. I had to give it to Melody. She had an affair right under Brandon's nose, even when they worked together. I wondered what had happened to Brandon after my death in my past life. Then, an idea came to me. I was delighted.

The text from James hits me like a physical blow, making my coffee cup tremble in my grip. Around me, Callum's pristine Mayfair office blurs at the edges as I stare at the glowing screen, my ex-husband's words burning into my retinas: *"I know I hurt you, but I've changed. The affair was the biggest mistake of my life. Can we talk?"*

"But Mr. Corrigan, if anyone should understand this better than me, it's you. After all, you’re the one who doesn’t want her to forget you." Alaric had already asked Emerald about it. She couldn’t remember what happened underwater, and even after everything, she had no clear recollection. With no cameras in the area, there was no evidence to prove Griffin was involved, let alone that he had tried to kill her—or that he had anything to do with her regaining her memories. Just then, Emerald returned with a bottle of red wine from the cellar. The waitstaff began serving the dishes. Alaric, ever the gentleman, pulled out a chair for her. Their eyes met, and they exchanged soft smiles. No words w

My cock moved in and out her tight pussy so fast, slick splattering our bodies. Five years being married to this woman and I can't still get enough. Letting go of her legs, I held onto her bouncing tits, fingenails scraping the pointed buds. "Remember our honeymoon?" I murmured, giving her long strokes, cock shiny with cunt cream. "You begged me to fuck you on the beach." She laughed breathlessly, rubbing my swollen clit. "How could I forget? We almost got arrested. But who fucking cares, you fucked my butthole to pieces that day."

But the strong sense of love engulfed all these emotions. Paul gave signatures of fear and urge to protect. The two had always been a pair since their awakening, so I heard. I rushed to Paul's side trying to find out what happened, “ what made two love birds create a scene? Is this one of your couples squabbles?" He seemed to have not known I was referring to him, “ big uncle" . I finally called his attention where he stood searching for scrolls. “Sweet chilly, it is nothing to worry your little head about, shouldn't you be at practice at this time?

She hadn’t left any personal details. But I remembered her face. I remembered her voice. And I carried that memory with me, like something too important to ever forget. Three months ago, I saw her again outside my own company. Standing beside a man, I already knew had an affair with his immediate superior. Her face. Her voice. Something in both had reached across the years and touched that memory. The next day, Watson confirmed what I already suspected. However, when I learned about the relationship she had with that man, something shifted in me. Something I couldn’t explain with logic.

The man with four grandchildren shaking his head slowly, as though he had run out of room to be surprised and was surprised anyway. I kept my face still and let them look, some of them at Adrian, more of them at me, waiting for the crippled wife to finally crumble at the public airing of the thing that should, by every rule they understood, break her. I did not crumble. That was the strange grace of it, sitting there. years ago the word affair had been a knife. I still remembered the exact shape of that afternoon, the sound of laughter coming down the stairs of my own house, the door standing open a few inches, the two of them in the bed I had shared with the man I trusted more than my own h