Going Home Novel Novels & Stories

I had to reach my grandfather’s old log cabin on the edge of the woods—the one place David forgot to put on his list of assets because it was in the name of a great-grandfather long since considered missing. Pushing through the haze of anxiety was grueling, but I managed to hold on. After the long flight, I finally touched down in Vermont. I moved quickly, dragging my suitcase onto a bus to continue the final leg of the journey. The anxiety slowly faded, replaced by a bizarre sensation in my head and gut. When the bus doors hissed open in front of Miller’s General Store, the night chill cut straight to my bones as if I were standing naked in a blizzard. The snow was falling heavily, white-wa

I didn’t even look back. Because looking back meant I’d hesitate. It meant I’d feel everything again—the betrayal, the confusion, the stupid sliver of hope still lodged in my chest like a shard of glass. So I stared straight ahead as the city disappeared behind me, letting every bump of the road jolt me further away from it all. I went home. Not the apartment I paid for but barely lived in. Not the crowded skyline or the noise that never sleeps. I mean real home. The little village curled between sleepy green hills and the sigh of the ocean breeze. Where the stars weren’t hidden by glass towers and smoke. Where silence didn’t feel like loneliness—it felt like peace.

It’s true that his family house is now his sister’s, so I don’t think he’d want to live with her and her family, no matter how much he loves them. I guess what I really want to know is why he returned. Why he left his life in LA to come back home after so long. But I don’t want to be that obvious, so it’s better to start with a stupid question. One I already know the answer to. “I’m used to living by myself. As much as I love Aubrie, Caitlin and Tom, I appreciate having my own space,” he explains, opening the driver’s door and climbing out of the car.

The plane touched down in France. As I stepped off and onto foreign soil, I couldn’t help but take a deep breath. No more Jennings family. No Shawn Scott. No Yvonne. No more cruel ghosts or rotten betrayals. Here, I was just Zoe, a woman on her own. I used my savings to rent a small apartment in Paris and started my new life. That day, I dressed up just a little. I wanted to walk around and finally enjoy the beauty of Paris.

What the hell just happened? I walk swiftly, and my mind and heart are all over the place. I should have been mad. I should have been really angry. But all I feel is... confused. I feel like I'm stuck in a hurricane that I can't get out of. I need to breathe. I need to take a breath. When I get to the back door, the chilly night air greets me like an old friend. I go outside, and the darkness wraps about me in solitude. The mansion feels like a jail since the huge gates keep me in a world where I don't belong. As I stroll down the garden path, my breath fogs up in the cold air and my boots crunch on the gravel.

The whole improbable generous beautiful math of a life that started in a catering uniform and a folder marked Destroy Him and ended up here, in a car on a Montana highway, holding hands in the dark. Going home. Always, finally, going home.

RASHIDA ummuraf6 SPECIAL THANKS A BIG THANK YOU TO ALL MY READERS. YOU ALL MADE WRITING WORTHWHILE FOR ME. Thank you so very much. Please tag your friends so they can join the rollercoaster. Guys please leave your reviews let's know what you think about the whole story Thank you once again for reading the Homewrecker. We meet again in my new story. THE GRIMORE The cover and blurb is in the next chapter so do check it out.

I’d been a kid when I’d left and I’d almost forgotten this world. And now I was alone here with a wolve. Well, almost alone. When I caressed my finger over my jeans, a heights nose poked out of the pocket, followed by two fluffy ears. “Zhen,” I coaxed, “get your gorgeous butt out here. We’re home.” Why were my eyes burning? To be home after a decade away and the murder of my parents? Could this truly be my home again? I sniffed, wiping at my eyes and refusing to let the tears fall, even though I couldn’t help imagining what it would have been like to grow up here into a proper Wolve Winner, rather than returning as a stranger who didn’t even know the rules of wolve care.

she agreed, leaning into him, "but for the first time, it’s a good kind of tired. The kind that comes from finishing a long, necessary task." They walked toward the central hall, the heart of their home. Inside, the fire was already lit, casting a golden, welcoming glow over the familiar surroundings. Everything was as they had left it, yet everything felt fundamentally transformed. They had left as refugees of a broken past, and they had returned as architects of a new era.

"I remember you saying you were going home." I frowned immediately. "Why does that stand out to you?" “Because you rarely went home,” Vincent answered honestly. "Most nights, you either slept at the office or had me book a hotel suite for you." A bitter taste filled my mouth. "So when you told me you were heading home…” He shrugged faintly. “I remember thinking it was unusual." I rubbed hard at my temples, trying to ease the pressure building behind my eyes. “Did I tell you why I was going home?”