Enough Is Enough Book Novels & Stories

“Aaron made you think you’re too much. That you’re a burden. That you’re only valuable for what you can provide. But Sarah, that’s his voice in your head, not ours. And I need you to hear me when I say this: You. Are. Enough. Just as you are. Broken pieces, dark humor, fear, all of it. You’re enough.” “I don’t feel like enough,” I whisper, and saying it out loud feels like admitting defeat. “I feel like I don’t deserve this.” “We’re the ones who do not deserve you.” Malachi looks down at me. “I’m not brave,” I argue. I know I should shut the fuck up and take what they’re giving me, but I want to trash it all out right now. “I’m a coward. I’m sitting here asking you to prove something you sho

“To know she is entirely genuine with you and entirely genuine with someone else simultaneously. That you are not enough. That you have never been enough.” “That’s not—” “Don’t.” His hand came up, stopping me, a wall not a touch. “Don’t tell me what it is. I was there.” “You are enough,” I said. My voice broke on it. “Nate, you are more than—” “If I were enough, you wouldn’t have needed him.” I opened my mouth and nothing came out.

we same in unison pointing to each other. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ------------- “There is no such thing as a good story. There is only something like a good book. A good book is where a reader finds complete solace and comfort; a way to escape harsh realities relating to his life” - R.A Higheels If you liked this chapter, please consider leaving a review!

"You are trying to be the perfect mother. And perfect does not exist." I looked at her. "But I need to be good enough. I need to be enough for her." "You are enough. You have always been enough. You just need to believe it." I went home that day and looked at Rose. She was sleeping in her crib. Her tiny chest rose and fell. "I am enough," I whispered. "I am enough for you." I felt the words settle in my chest. They felt true. He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. "How did it go?"

Probably never would be. But it was being paid. One life at a time. One small victory at a time. And that was enough. Emma set her phone aside, took her evening medications, and let herself sleep. Her heart beat its steady rhythm. Fifty-one percent capacity. Not perfect. Not cured. But enough to live. Enough to love. Enough to keep making small differences in the world. The debt would always be there. But so would she. And for now, that was enough.

And that would be enough. It had to be enough. Please let it be enough. Please.

“Now I’m the writer of my own ending. And it’s enough. It’s finally enough. [THE END]

"About him. About whether I'm enough for him." Dani reached across the table and took his hand. "You're enough," she said. "You've always been enough. You just couldn't see it." He held her hand and thought about that. Maybe she was right. Maybe he had always been enough, and the problem had been his own inability to see it, to believe it, to accept that he deserved the things he wanted. Maybe that was what the last three years had been about—not becoming enough, but learning to see that he already was.

She talked about Alexander, the way he had manipulated her, used her, discarded her when she was no longer useful. "I thought if I could make him love me, I would finally be enough," she said. "But I was never enough. Not for him. Not for anyone." "You don't have to be enough for anyone but yourself." "That's easy for you to say." "It's not easy." Isabella's voice was gentle. "It's the hardest thing in the world. But it's worth it." Genevieve was silent for a long moment. Then she said, "How do you do it?"

"That's what matters. That's all that matters. That's everything. That's enough. That's more than enough. That's all I ever needed. That's all I ever wanted. That's all I'll ever need. That's all I'll ever want. That's all I'll ever hold." "Is it? Is it really? Is it enough? Is it enough to make up for the years? Is it enough to make up for the silence? Is it enough to make up for the pain? Is it enough to make up for the lost time? Is it enough to make up for the tears? Is it enough to make up for the nights I spent alone? Is it enough to make up for the empty bed?"