Bittersweet Novels & Stories

“Manager gave me a final warning. Said if I’m late one more time, I’m fired.” Susie pulled me into a tight hug. “I’m sorry, babe. That’s so unfair.” She pulled back and gave me a small, teasing smile. “But… at least your favorite person in the world came to see you today, right?” Despite everything, a tiny, warm flutter returned to my chest. I bit my lip and nodded, still touching the necklace around my neck. “Yeah… he did.”

BITTER LOVE Book One in the Dawson Family Series Copyright 2021 Emily Goodwin Chapter One Josie Fifteen years ago… A tear rolls down my cheek, but I don’t bother to wipe it away. Another will just take its place in only seconds anyway. I look at the paper in my hand: the corner of it crinkled from being gripped so hard. A voice in the back of my mind tells me I shouldn’t have done that, that I should have been more careful.

Eleanor I don’t think there’s a word strong enough to describe the taste of betrayal. Bitter doesn’t cover it. Acidic comes close, but even that feels too delicate, too poetic, for what it does to your heart when it detonates in your chest. It started with the scent.

every night my spirit is entangled within the fangs of bitterness, my strength ebbs away at the ticking of the time, I am most miserable of all men, even more miserable than the beast of the field, my light has become a great darkness, happiness no longer comes to my dwelling place, I have only taken a place to live, which will definitely be filled up some days when I had made it empty, if I am denied the joy of my life, the only thing that should parch a smile to my face in this vile world of

The last word hung between them, heavy with finality. He bit into another strawberry, hearing the sound of a violent crunch in the charged atmosphere. The sweetness was lost on him, just as the bitterness of rejection consumed Olivia. In this house of glass and stone, reflections of love twisted into shadows of betrayal, every mirrored surface echoing back the fractures of their relationship.

Ten minutes later, Sweet Pea Guun came out with a dark face. Brene Brian was at that time in the living room looking for ointments, and in the distance smelled a bitter and lowly scent, he had a bad premonition. "Your taste... is very unique." Sweet Pea Guun really couldn't help but spit out a sentence. "Sorry, sorry! It's me...... I got it wrong." Brene Brian is miserable, how did he get married, Sweet Pea Guun first had something to ask him, but he was...

She was brewing Jasmine tea in our kitchen like it could fix all troubles in my little world. She used to cool the cup with two spoons of honey. “Sip, little dumpling,” she’d murmur, and my name in her mouth made me feel invincible. The tea was honey-sweet, with a bitterness that only arrived after the second spoon. I thought that was what love tasted like—warm up front, bitter sweet in the afterthought. Years later the bitterness got a diploma and a label: tincture, solution, microdose. But back then it was just a flavor that made me stronger in all the ways I couldn’t name.

I batted my lashes and replied lightly, "Kiss me, and I'll have the motivation." My words hit Marcus like a lightning bolt. His head snapped up, and the pen ripped a long line across the page. "What?" he exclaimed. A smirk tugged at my lips as I looked at him. "Didn't you ask what you can do to get me going? One kiss, and I'm fully recharged." He froze completely. His eyes darted around, lashes fluttering behind his glasses. He swallowed hard, yet he couldn't get a single word out. The blush spread from his face to his neck.

He felt a light had briefly entered his life, only to vanish without hesitation. When he thought all hope was lost, it reappeared, kindling anew. But when he reached out, it slipped through his fingers—never his to keep. No matter how hard he grasped, it slipped away, leaving him emptier than before. From the car, he grabbed a handful of pills and swallowed them with difficulty. The bitterness made him wince. "Russell, these pills are bitter," he muttered. "Mr. Moriarty, medicine has always been bitter," Russell sighed. "Let it go. Whether Miss Hammond loved you or not, she's married now."

My calm responses seemed to unsettle him, but before he could say anything more, Beverly called out from across the room. “Charles, I’m cold. Come hug me!” He smiled and walked over. “Of course, my little princess.” He took off his jacket, draped it over her shoulders, and held her close, singing her a lullaby as if she were a child. I returned home alone, packed my belongings, and prepared to leave everything behind. After packing, I opened my phone and saw Beverly’s new Instagram post. [The one who loves you will never let you get hurt.] That night, I had the best sleep I’d had in years.