Fix Me Ten Years Novels & Stories

Her marked tits, clamped-red nipples, dripping holes, and tear-streaked face, all of it mine. “Five years, Rosa. Five years, and you’re still exactly the same,” I whispered.

The old man said. “You’re right, Mr. J. I’ve been a bit confused lately!” “It’s because the ten-year pact that the three of you made back then is coming to a close, right? The Lovewoods’ little girl is finally coming back after ten years.” “Mr. J, my brother and I used to be super close, but we ended up having a falling out because of a girl. I always wonder if I should’ve done things differently!”

The lines of words on the screen were like poisonous needles that jabbed straight into my eyes, making them hurt. To think that I had been the homewrecker all this time and ruined someone else's relationship for ten whole years. Ten. The best ten years of my life—from when I was 17 until I was 27—had all been spent on Vincenzo. And, as it turned out, I never even got a formal title out of it. How pathetic. The pain from my legs and the suffocating feeling in my chest suddenly surged tenfold. I couldn't remain calm any longer.

Moving to America had always been my ultimate goal in life. Ever since I was fifteen, when my high school bestie and I had constructed a detailed ten-year plan, mapping out everything from our university courses to our apartment's precise address just five minutes from Broadway, I had known that this was what I wanted to do with the one life I'd been blessed with. And from the moment Rebecca and I had come up with a catchy 'American Dream' jingle in the ninth grade, I'd been determined that nothing could get in the way of me getting to the Big Apple.

When Nathan saw my face, he looked stunned. "Vivian Warner, what are you doing here?" he demanded. I lowered my head to apologize to the server and explained, "I came here looking for someone." Someone curiously asked Nathan, "Do you know her, Mr. Finch?" Nathan's grip tightened on his wine glass, his expression growing somber. "Yes, just an ex-girlfriend." Someone nearby said thoughtlessly, "You two were together for ten years. I thought you were each other's first love."

Trusting you again Leaving the pains Why not getting it back in return Why am I always in the fault? Why Me? THE END

"Mark, ten years. Every damn second of those ten years—when didn't she love you? Tell me that. How do you even deserve—how do you deserve someone like Jenna loving you that long?" She didn't wait for an answer. Just shoved him out of the bar. Outside, the neon lights hit like prison bars—sharp, cold, and closing in. He couldn't even see his love anymore. That's when it hit him. Ten years married, and not once had he really talked to Jenna. Not once. Every moment was her trying not to upset him. Her breaking down behind a locked door so he wouldn't hear her cry. Mandy's voice wouldn't stop ringing in his head.

I am no one's but his father's boy. He gives his toy a look and she scrambles away. "Ho qualcosa per te. (I have something for you)." He smirks, trying to retrieve something from his drawer. "I also have something for you." "Really?" He pauses. "Okay, you go first." "Oggi sono esattamente dieci anni. (It is exactly ten years today)." Ten years since I started doing horrible things for him. Hell, I have been counting, waiting desperately for the tenth year. "Ricordi il nostro accordo? (You remember our deal?)" The deal was to let me and my sister go after ten years. I know better than to trust Vaughan's word but I'm prepared.