Novel & Cerita For Worse Or Better

What's the worst that can happen? Oh. A lot, apparently.

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

Hіѕ eyebrows rаіѕеd аѕ hіѕ еуеѕ ѕсrutіnіzеd my fасе. “Prеttу good.” His еуеѕ wіdеnеd in annoyance. “That’s еvеn worse.” “Okау, іt wаѕ grеаt,” “Thаt’ѕ аn improvement, but I thоught I dіd better thаn that. Hоw аbоut frеаkіng аmаzіng, you tоtаllу rосkеd mу world?” he аddеd wіth a ѕmіrk.

I try to communicate with my tone my disapproval for the direction this conversation has turned. She nods, and my mother begins to say something. For a moment I think this conversation was going to be dropped in favour of something else. But Mrs Doubtin cuts my mother off. “But I suppose I didn’t miss much, considering that the wedding ended up not happening anyway.” She chuckles, no one else joins in. “Why was that by the way?” “Inconsolable differences.” I respond with as calm of a tone as I could muster. Though could feel myself squeezing the handles of my purse tighter in my hands, so I was anything but.

I had always been good at strategy for organizations and slow to apply it to myself. She wrote: I learned that the worst thing and the best thing can be sequential chapters of the same story, and that the best thing does not cancel the worst one, and the worst one does not nullify the best. Both are true simultaneously. The damage is real. The life built from and alongside the damage is also real. Holding both is not contradiction. It is accuracy.

It was specifically, particularly, irreplaceably real. That was better.

Married. For better or worse. And right now, it was definitely worse. But we'd survive. We always did.

"Right. Look! He's cut your favorite cheese for you. He's so in love with you." "Yeah. He loves no one but you." People always emphasized what they lacked. Evan, at 17, knew that actions spoke louder than words. But he seemed to have forgotten this at 27. Wearing a self-deprecating smile, I glanced at Hannah beside him. She sported a head of glorious red hair, perfectly matching her passionate, open, and fiery nature—the very qualities that had taken Evan by storm. Female werewolves seemed to have great bodies, but Hannah had the best body among all of Evan's werewolf girlfriends. My human body certainly wasn't attractive enough for Evan.

Damien also looked at me, his gaze darkening for a moment. “A friend.” I put my phone face down and picked up the box of marzipan he had specially brought back for me. I unwrapped one and placed it in my mouth. I used to love this flavor the most. Now, it only tasted sickeningly sweet and bitter at the same time, just like this marriage. Covered in sugar on the outside, while rotten underneath. Damien looked at me as if waiting for a reaction. “Is it good? If you like it, I’ll buy more next time.”

It was… surrender. And that? That was somehow worse.