Novel & Cerita Book Review For Night

Two years apart, and it’s impossible to believe he didn’t fall for someone else during that time. It was already 8 p.m. when I arrived at Ravi’s house. I could still hear the housemaids talking downstairs, but I didn’t bother greeting them. I went straight to my room, took a bath, and soaked my body in warm water. It gave me a small sense of comfort. I stayed in the tub for almost thirty minutes before deciding to properly shower. I changed into a lavender nightdress, turned down the AC, cracked open the small glass window above the larger one to let in fresh air, then sat by my bed. I opened two cans of beer and started drinking.

The books were still neatly arranged just how dad left it. I ran my fingers through the books aligned on the shelves. A tear dropped from my eyes when I remembered the memories dad and I had in this library. As I moved, I came across a book on the table beside it was a mug. It sparked my curiosity because this mug was dads mug. Nobody uses it not even mom. The book was not as dusty as the rest books and the mug was warm with some remains of coffee in it. Somebody came in here, somebody was here. Nobody would have entered if not mom. Could it be her or the maids? But who would dare disrespect dad by using his own mug?

Adam said gently. He was always like that. Adam never once messed with me. "Last night, you came to my room, opened the door, and took off my clothes, and you took off yours. We both enjoyed the night without me knowing that you were Adam. The lights were off so that I couldn't catch your reflection very well. I thought you were Gavin; I couldn't hear your sighs and whispers very well either. I might have. It felt different that night. But I didn't think much of it because, damn it, I enjoyed what you did to me," I said honestly. Adam was silent, and so was I. We faced each other in the room, remembering the sin we had committed.

They just stare at me in silence. *** That evening, while Ayesha rested in her room and Leo met with the hotel manager to finalize the next day's transportation, I sat alone on the balcony. The Nile shimmered beneath the moonlight and it was beautiful. Normally, the peaceful view calmed me but tonight… It only made me restless. The book about Kharef rested on my lap and almost without thinking, I opened it. The pages fluttered on their own, again, and they stopped at the final chapter, at the same page I had read before but strangely something was different.

Lyra I woke up feeling so refreshed and somehow, I felt so excited. I tried to think back to the things that happened before I went to bed but nothing was special about my night that would have made me so happy. It was just like my usual night, Zane came back late, threw his normal insultive words around and went to bed. “Why this sudden excitement then?” I thought to myself as I got out of bed.

“Well, that’s Calvin for you.” There was no bitterness in her voice this time. Just indifference. Or at least she hoped it sounded that way. Ann studied her for a moment but said nothing. After a while, Sarah stood and stretched. “I’m going to bed.” “So early?” “I’ve earned it.” “Fair enough.” Sarah smiled. “Goodnight, Ann.” “Sleep well.” A few minutes later, silence settled over the apartment. Across town, however, sleep seemed determined to avoid Calvin Hart. He stepped into his penthouse apartment shortly after midnight and loosened his tie as he walked through the door. Normally, after a long social event, he would have welcomed the peace and quiet. Tonight, however, the silence felt unu

That much was obvious. ‘A Hundred Years of Solitude.’ She was only halfway through the book. It was a heavy one, and she couldn’t understand why she read it before she came back. Night time was perfect for a reading session, so she was reading seriously. Heather was the most attractive when she was quiet, and she drifted to sleep with a book in her hands that night. If there was one downside about night reading, that would be the fact that the reader would fall asleep easily.

Bored and restless, I wandered from room to room, searching for something to occupy my mind. In Bella’s room, I spotted a book on her nightstand—Birthday Girl by Penelope Douglas. I had heard good things about it, so I decided to give it a shot. I curled up on her bed, diving into the pages. For a while, it worked—I was able to lose myself in the story and momentarily forget the unease tugging at me. But, of course, that didn’t last long.

The night before we leave, the night before January the sixth, I learn two things: there are two kinds of hunger, and one can keep you up all night, staring at the ceiling and missing a place and people you are yet to leave. It is two O'Clock in the morning and disconcertingly quiet when I decide that I can't endure the trashing and turning. I take a book from the shelf that will no longer be mine by evening, purple hibiscus, with the cracks on its cover and Adichie's delighted face above its blurb, and I go to the sitting room that will not be ours by evening.