Disillusionment At Ten O'clock Novels & Stories

I remembered the exact moment I broke for him. It was past ten at night. The office was empty, lights dimmed to emergency glow. I was hunched over my laptop in the bullpen, cursing a report that refused to balance. Heels kicked off under my desk, hair twisted up in a messy knot, blouse untucked from frustration. Then his shadow fell across my screen.

Tabitha finally decided to tell her parents everything about the ten years she spent in the mission world. In the original world, Eleanor and William were the only people she could truly trust. It took her just three hours to lay out the past decade, from start to finish. When she was done, she picked up a glass of water and took a sip, giving them a moment to process that load of information. By then, they had already moved past shock. All that remained was a deep, aching heartbreak.

Across the suite, the city continued to glimmer, a vast and indifferent entity. Perfectly chaotic. I placed the phone down, turning my attention back to the expansive view beyond the glass. The players were strategically positioned, moving as I intended. And this time, I was determined to leave no loose ends. --- **ELON’S POV** It took me a staggering twelve minutes before my evening descended into chaos. Honestly, that had to be some kind of personal record. As I stepped out of the building and into the bracing night air, a familiar buzz echoed from my coat pocket.

I only care about leaving. When I realized they weren't any minute close to being done with their meal, I dropped my cutleries on the plate, pulled out my chair, and got ready to leave. It was almost ten thirty and I wouldn't love to walk in the dark cos only the heavens knows what lurks in the darkness these days. A lot of crazy things have been happening around the pack and people are being advised to be in their homes by ten. "I'll love to retire for the night. Goodnight everyone," I gave a fake smile once their eyes landed on me.

he said. Don held his gaze. The pause — the considering that preceded the confirming. "Yes," he said. "In the tenth year, briefly, the inside account can see itself from outside." He looked at the study window — the January estate, the structure without decoration, the bare bones of the garden that would be full in the spring, the quince trees skeletal against the winter sky, the foxglove bed dormant under its blanket of frost. "Not truly outside. There is no truth outside anymore. But from the threshold. From the tenth year's position, looking back at the nine."

He wake me up at midnight and took me again, and another one at dawn until I totally pass out. I woke up in the afternoon and I can't feel my lower half, I tried to move and I saw a painkiller and water at the night stand, I reach it and drink two pills. I wait to kick in the medicine and move again. As I sat I see that I was still naked under the duvet. I was looking for Pete but he was nowhere to be found, and it sank in my mind that maybe he regret being with me and my heart aches.

Having worked out a collaboration with the investors, I left the restaurant alone and waited by the curb for the company car. It was late autumn, and the trees were mostly barren save for a few amber-colored leaves. The sun was setting, and the sky was painted orange and indigo as it heralded the twilight hour. "Tess." A light breeze scattered the leaves along the street, and I turned to see Jonathan standing behind me. He looked more haggard than I remembered, and his normally straight back looked slightly hunched, as if he had been carrying a heavy weight. His eyes were bloodshot with dark circles under them, and he hadn't bothered shaving, either. His clothes were rumpled, too.

The tenth engagement party was a shadow of the ones before. The banquet hall felt hollow. Neither Felicity Hill's parents nor mine bothered to show up. Her folks were mortified by her repeated stunts, while my mom and dad were fed up with the public humiliation. They'd even threatened to disown me if I didn't cut ties with her. I told myself that this was the last time. Felicity stood beside me, but her eyes weren't on me. She kept sneaking glances at her watch, then at the double doors. I knew who she was waiting for.

It came with a profound, settling clarity, as quiet and irreversible as the closing of a book. “I’m not willing to accept this,” I said. The air left the room. He studied me, his head tilted slightly, as if I were a complex piece of code he was trying to debug. “You don’t mean that,” he replied, a trace of that old arroganceThe air in his studio, usually thick with the scent of turpentine and possibility, now felt thin and sharp, like the air before a storm breaks. I could see the fracture in his eyes, a tiny, hairline crack in the obsidian calm he always wore. It wasn’t anger. It was something worse: a cold, clinical disappointment.

Your project has been suspended indefinitely. Zachary froze, disbelief written all over his face. "Suspended? Why? This project was on track for a national award!" Winston sneered. "An award? With what funding? Our largest sponsor withdrew their investment this morning, and they were very specific about their reasons. They're pulling the plug because of you!" Zachary was stunned. "Which sponsor? I've never even met them. How could I have offended anyone?"