Amor À Distância Novels & Stories

Amelia I do as he asks and I don’t turn around but I never needed to to know it was him. I felt his energy long before he was behind me, touching me, lighting my body on fire with his very presence. My head is spinning that he did this, my compulsion is strong even on vampires, his hatred for me should be filling his mind whenever he is near me. I can’t understand why he has done this, I also can’t understand why I allowed it to happen. Who am I kidding there is nothing in this world that I wanted more than to feel his touch, his lips on my skin, him filling me completely. Yet, I know this is a dangerous game and will lead to nothing but sorrow. I vow this can never happen again.

Her voice was sharp, and she clearly didn't appreciate being spoken to like that. Eryx rolled his eyes, his annoyance palpable. He wasn’t in the mood for this argument and certainly didn’t have the energy to entertain her anymore. “And tell me one reason why you want to marry me," he snapped. "There are plenty of men out there who are more handsome than I am. Why me?” Amy didn't hesitate. “Because I love you,” she said, her words quick and direct. Eryx let out a harsh laugh, disbelief dripping from his tone. “Fuck your love,” he scoffed. “If you really loved me, you wouldn’t be out there fucking around.”

Before he could finish, a car sped in from the side, closing the distance in an instant. Bang—!

“You love this boy? For real love, not just ‘he’s hot and my parents hate it’ love?” Mia stared at the water. “Yeah. I think so. It started as a crush but… it got real. He sees me. Not just Jake’s little sister.” Lisa nodded slowly. “And does he love you back? Or is he just along for the ride?” “He says he does. But everything blew up and now we’re doing this break thing. He’s back home trying to fix shit with Jake and my parents. I’m… here.” Lisa rocked in her chair. “Distance can do two things. It can kill something that wasn’t strong enough. Or it can show you what actually matters. Problem is, you won’t know which until you sit in it for a while.”

It was because we did not love each other anymore. It took me several months to recognize the truth from his aloof attitude toward me, and it was time for me to tell him that he no longer loved me. "You don't love me anymore either. It's the right time for us to divorce amicably." A strong gust of wind blew past, and the cornflowers on his passenger seat started flying everywhere. The flowers caught Ian's attention, and he frantically tried to salvage them, as if he was trying to salvage our love as well.

Chapter 63: Controlled Distance Amara POV I was in the living room folding the laundry when Damian came home from work, he walked straight to where I was sitting and tried to kiss my cheekbut, I moved my head away before his lips could touch my skin and continued folding the clothes like nothing happened. "Amara," he said. "Yes," I replied without looking up. "Can I at least get a hello when I come home?" he asked. "Hello," I said flatly.

I took a deep breath, opened the tracker on Edith's smartwatch, and drove to the location: an amusement park. There, I stopped dead. Victor, in a casual t-shirt and jeans, held Helene close, their laughter warm and intimate. Edith was riding a carousel, grinning and posing for photos. Helene snapped pictures, then leaned in to kiss Victor's cheek. They looked like a perfect family of three, while I stood rooted, an outsider stealing glances at their happiness. This park was famous. I'd suggested bringing Edith here so many times, but she had always dismissed me. "Mom, you're an adult. Don't be so childish. This place is a waste of time."

A man who would do everything just to impose a horrendous love that shouldn't exist in the first place. "Te amo, Amor."

Amara’s POV It had been three weeks since the scandal ended, and yet the office still buzzed with faint echoes of it—half-whispered gossip that refused to die. But the real silence wasn’t around Amara. It was between her and Damian. They spoke only when necessary. Polite. Controlled. Distant. Every “Mr. Cruz” she said felt like armor; every “Ms. Lopez” from him felt like punishment. She told herself she preferred it that way—that distance meant safety, that professionalism was protection. But her body betrayed her. Her pulse quickened when she caught his reflection in the glass during meetings. Her chest tightened when his gaze lingered on her just a second too long.