Chapter Nine Novels & Stories

"Thank you for deciding to get past that shield I had over my heart." END OF VOLUME NINE: SHIELD MY HEART

(Word count: 2,008) End of Chapter 99 Would you like Chapter 100?

Through everything. End of Chapter 109

End of Chapter 45 ---

In the practice. In the choosing. In all the ordinary days. Which are everything. She closed the notebook. She looked at the window. The October dark. The ridge. Present. Permanent. Patient. She breathed. She was here. She was home. She was, without qualification, continuing. End of Chapter Thirty-Nine.

Clare had a chapter twenty-nine. Mara had seven o'clock. That was enough. That was, it turned out, more than enough.

It was frighteningly tempting. I twisted off the cap and poured the pills into my hand, swallowing them dry, along with the lingering metallic taste of blood in my mouth. My throat burned as I forced them down, but an odd, unsettling calm spread through my chest. I slid down to the floor and pressed my back against the cold cabinet. I didn't know how long I had been sitting there when the door finally opened. Dad stood in the doorway with an empty glass in his hand. He had probably come for water, but the moment he saw me, he forgot all about it.

Steven tossed the sheets onto the coffee table. They were the divorce certificates, numbered one through nine. He sneered. "Lucy, how can a man be so petty? He's keeping score with those divorce certificates. He's probably scheming to get back at you!" Lucy stared blankly at the divorce certificates. I quickly reached out to gather the certificates, but a drop of water landed on the back of my hand.

Outside, the first snow of early winter fell, dusting Jake's shoulders as he left the ballroom. My shoulders, however, would never feel the cold again. The End

The man hung his head low, his fingers buried deep in his hair, carefully considering where I might have gone. As his eyes wandered, they suddenly fell upon the trash can nearby. Those pink fragments looked so familiar that the moment he saw them, he felt like he couldn't breathe. He slowly crouched down, not caring that the cream stains would dirty his sleeves. He picked up the pieces from the trash can bit by bit. Then, he carefully assembled them back together. There were exactly 99 reconciliation vouchers. He remembered five years ago, when he had looked at those vouchers and sincerely promised me, "Cecilia, don't worry. I'll never give you a reason to use them."