Empty Smiles Novels & Stories

He came forward and grabbed my shoulders. “Coco, are you pregnant?” I shoved him away and answered with a cold voice, “No. I’m not. I’m just disgusted. Stop speaking of your empty, meaningless love. It just makes me sick.” The hope in his eyes shattered instantly.

The stillness was unsettling as Amani stepped into the heart of the clearing. Not a single cricket chirped, nor did the wind dare to stir the grass. Midnight had settled over the land, yet there was no sign of the King’s guard. Amani’s gaze swept across the trees on the far edge of the clearing, searching for any flicker of movement. The eerie quiet gnawed at her; in times of war, punctuality wasn’t just protocol—it was a matter of truce.

The world felt empty. Not the quiet of the night, or the stillness of a deserted alley, but the kind of emptiness that gnawed at the edges of your soul, leaving hollows where laughter, warmth, and life once lived. Travis was gone. Every corner of my mind replayed the last moments—the weakness in his grip, the faint smile he gave me as life slipped from him, the final whispered words that now haunted my every breath: “Alive… together… always…”

Empty means no pain, no confusion, no messy emotions that make people do stupid things. Empty is good. So why does it feel like dying? The air in our chambers tastes metallic. Like blood mixed with winter flowers. It sticks in my throat, makes breathing feel like swallowing glass. Even the walls seem to watch me with eyes hidden in the dark stone. "My beloved Lunara." Silas's voice wraps around me like velvet. Rich. Warm. Full of devotion that should make me feel cherished. "Come away from the window, my darling. You've been staring at nothing for an hour."

His eyes darted toward me in panic. Alisa, however, scoffed and typed again. [What are you so scared of? Your wife’s blind. What’s she gonna see?] His breath hitched. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he struggled to keep calm. Then, like a man who’d just given up, he let out a deep sigh. “Babe, can you hand me the box of cigarettes on the nightstand?” That cigarette box he mentioned was clearly labeled: Durex Ultra-Thin—Bare Feel.

His big doe eyes blinked in shock as he looked up at me. My lips tugged up as I grabbed a piece of popcorn. His eyes immediately go to it, and he watches that piece like a hawk as I bring it to my mouth and pop it in. I swear I saw his eyes dilate as he watched that piece of popcorn disappear. My lips tugged up further, and my chest puffed out proudly at the reactions I kept pulling from him.

Naomi blinked. Emma looked at him. “Why not?” “Because of this blasted machine.” He tapped the Ox-Co unit strapped to his side. “Can't smoke with the damn thing on.” Leonard stared at him. Sofia's eyebrows rose. Wade continued. “Try lighting a cigarette around all this equipment and see how quick someone starts yelling at you.” Emma's expression softened. “That's rough.” “Damn right it's rough.” “I'd be miserable.” “I am miserable.” Naomi nodded sympathetically.

I nodded, giving him a friendly smile. He stared at me blankly for a moment, lips parted as if to say something, but then he left, leaving me somewhat disappointed. What had he wanted to say? The next morning, I was disappointed to see the chair next to the bed was empty. He hadn’t returned. I must be insane; I wanted him to leave me alone, but now that he was gone, I missed him. His dark, mesmerizing eyes with splashes of red haunted my thoughts. Pushing the feeling aside, I turned my attention to Merilla, who was still on the bed. She stretched comfortably when one of the healers entered.

Said Crissa. "Don't mistake it by stalking. It's called, smart researching." Ellyza said artfully. "It's a lot of tissue. My cramps are coming out because of this cold." I almost blew out the Avocado Shake I was drinking. "Awful, Ely! You're an awful woman. I'm drinking an Avocado shake." "It's good that I just said, eh. Be glad that I didn’t wipe it on you." I pulled my phone out of my uniform pocket. My eyebrows rose when I saw Wright's name on the screen again.

I stared at the invitation for several seconds. Then I laughed. That was fast. We had only been divorced half a month, and the invitations were already printed. It seemed they had prepared everything long ago, waiting only for me, the obstacle, to move out of the way. I turned the invitation over and saw a small line printed on the back. "Witness our love and share in our happiness." Love. Happiness. Coming from Adrian Whitmore, those words sounded ironic no matter how I looked at them.