Forever Lost My Love Novels & Stories

“That’s me inside you. Where I belong. Where *we* belong. No more hiding. No more fear. Just this. Us. Forever.” I wrapped my legs around his waist, nails digging into his back as he moved—deep, deliberate strokes that built another peak fast. Faint sobs mixed with moans, happy tears spilling freely now as the truth sank deeper with every thrust: she was gone. Her voice, her poison, her control—it couldn’t reach us here. “I love you,” I gasped, arching into him. “So much it hurts sometimes. But the good kind. The forever kind.”

My heart hammered a tiny, frantic rhythm. A sliver of sunlight, fractured by the chandelier, caught the polished floor, and for a terrifying second, the reflection wasn't crystal. It was the low, corrugated tin roof back home. The images were always the same: golden dust motes, the distant, muffled rhythm of the neighborhood drums, and then the shift. The unnatural silence. The kind of silence that swallowed people. My mother, beautiful and fierce, gone. Kian, my brother, nine years old, gone, too.

I just sat there, holding her hand long after it went cold. The funeral was huge...society turned out in black designer everything. Whispers everywhere. “Poor thing wasted away.” “Such a shame.” And worse: “No wonder he strayed. Look what the cancer did to her.” I heard it all. That was the day I stopped believing in forever. The day I learned love could be a weapon. The day I lost the only person who ever loved me without conditions. *** Back in the suite, present day, I wiped my face roughly.

Joel turned around and quickly glanced in the direction of Rachel's ward, but he quickly looked away. He then smiled and walked over to Renee. "Let's go." From now onward, Joel Lewis no longer existed in this part of the world, and Rachel's name would be erased from his world forever. Things would take a turn for the better now.

Until his final day. That day, clarity returned. He gave one final instruction for his epitaph. "To the only one I have ever loved, may we meet again in the next life." What he didn't know was that, at nearly the same moment, Harper was lying in bed too. She was surrounded by the man she loved, and generations of children and grandchildren. "Grandma, do you have anything you'd like to say?" She looked at Christopher, who had stood by her side for sixty years.

I stared at the screen for ten minutes, just breathing. I didn’t cry. I didn’t smile. I just… remembered. Remembered the nights I begged for that message and never got it. Remembered all the times I felt disposable, quieted, confused. And now that I was gone — now that I’d stopped chasing, stopped needing — he wanted to reach back out. Of course he did. That’s how it always works with people who only miss you when they can no longer control you. I showed the message to my friend.

Without his note, I'd have thought it was spilled ink. It had a note too. [June XX, 20XX. Forever Lost My Love. I got what I deserved.]

She stared down at my body and murmured, "Sophie! Don't leave me! Mommy loves you..." And then, overwhelmed, her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed. I stood beside her, utterly confused. What even was love supposed to be? Wasn't love supposed to make someone happy? Make them feel cherished? Why did my mother spend my whole life hitting me, cursing at me, never once favoring me, saying such vicious things that she drove me toward wanting to die? And only after I was dead, decide to say she loved me? Was this really what she called love? Mom, I think, all of a sudden, I don't want your love anymore.

Ashton Rivers catches his wife, Jezebel Vesper, on a date with her 99th lover, Damien Grimshaw, and is then "accidentally" pushed down the stairs, causing his eardrums to tear and leaving him deaf in one ear. This is the fifth time an "accident" like this has happened. The previous times involved a broken right hand, a nearly-blinded left eye, and more. Every time, the price Ashton pays is excruciating. However, this time, Ashton doesn't make a scene anymore. He goes to the hospital alone for treatment without any unnecessary drama or accusations. This is all because of the humiliating agreement that Jezebel's grandmother, Lilith Thorne, forced him to sign eight years ago when he married

My twin sister, Vivian Hall and I were inseparable. Then she died. Three months later, I married her husband, Lawrence Peterson. For five years, he only touched me once a year, on our birthday. He made me wear her silk nightgowns. He made me put on her signature red lipstick. He forced me to mimic every detail, from the exact way she brushed back her hair to the soft sound of her voice in the dark. "Lift the corners of your lips," he whispered against my skin, his breath burning hot, his words ice cold. "Vivian never smiled so cheaply." He pulled me closer, burying his face in my neck. "Do you know why I only touch you tonight?" he breathed. "Because tonight is the only night I