Good Bye Days Novels & Stories

On the other side, I sat by the window on the airplane, watching the city below grow smaller and smaller until it was completely swallowed by the clouds. The cabin was quiet. I closed my eyes and replayed the past 23 years in my mind like a film. Tears slid down my cheeks without me realizing it. It was time to say goodbye to my past. … Third-Person POV The next morning, the local news reported, "Last night, a speeding car caused a traffic accident and burst into flames. According to the latest updates, the remains of a young woman were discovered in the vehicle."

“After this, no more delays. Tonight. Private ceremony. Just us. Then I’m knotting you until you can’t walk.” Tears slipped down my cheeks—happy, relieved, free. “Yes. A thousand goodbyes to everything before. Hello to you.” He kissed them away. “A thousand goodbyes.” We stayed locked on the table, hearts hammering in sync, while the city hummed outside and the bond sang its final, unbreakable note. I was Alisa Moretti. I was Kael Draven’s mate. And I had never been more free.

Everyone misses you, I freaking miss my best friend gee, please text me back. Ada typed, sending another message to Janet before sneaking her phone back into her locker. It was true, everyone felt the absence of the ever loved head girl. When Tiwa heard about what had happened, even he seemed down. Not to talk about Derek. Ada had never seen him so worried.

What mattered to me was that he gave everything I wanted to Michelle. Maybe before that night, I would have been moved by his gesture, but now, looking at Ryan, all I could think of were those words: “Late affection is as meaningless as a fleeting trend. If you don't act when it counts, it loses its relevance later on.” … I looked at him, offering a cold smile. “Mr. Patel, that’s all in the past now.” When old flames meet, I couldn’t pretend to be friends after a breakup, nor could I bury the past.

“Is 7 okay. Is box closed. Is 3 PM tomorrow. Is… always.” _Silence. Bedroom. 11:50 PM._ Adrian got up. Walked over. Picked Alex up. 6 years old. Barely fits. For now. “7’s okay,” Adrian said. To Alex. To 581 days. To Reese. Dead. To _R_. In box. To always. “Box is closed. 3 PM is tomorrow. And always is always. Merry Christmas, buddy.” _Thump-thump. Thump-thump._

Chapter Nine Day Three Thursday. The next day, Bisola woke up reluctantly to the jingling of the alarm beside her. Bisola opened her eyes first, and then she rubbed her with her backhand, last night was too awesome for her, she and Tolani her friend scout every clothing store in the city, they are not necessarily buying everything, but they just wish to share more time together, both understand that, they might not have the time to share together like this in the future.

And I realized I liked that gaze very much—and the person behind it even more. I started the car again. In the rearview mirror, Samantha finally picked up the shredded ticket and limped away into the street corner. Snow began to fall. Celine turned on the heater, and soft Christmas music played through the car speakers. I pressed the accelerator, watching her face glow gently in the snowlight, and suddenly understood—true rebirth is not revenge, but learning how to plant flowers in the ruins. This time, I could finally say it without hesitation. Goodbye. And never again.

Even though I was standing right in front of him, he felt a sudden, inexplicable distance—as if I were already fading away. "Selena, I know I’ve been preoccupied lately," he said, a rare note of guilt in his voice. "The day after tomorrow is your birthday. I promise I’ll cancel all Commission meetings. I’ll spend the whole day with you, okay?" I forced a small, thin smile onto my porcelain-pale face. "Okay." Damian let out a sigh of relief. When my birthday arrived, he was unnervingly energetic, as if overcompensating for his absence. Throughout the drive, he talked incessantly about the family’s future expansion, trying to spark the "loyalty" I was supposed to feel as a Moretti.

I walked past him, stepped into the elevator, and pressed the close button without the slightest hint of reluctance. I arrived at Blair's house half an hour later. I told my best friend about my miscarriage. She hugged me and comforted me, coaxing me for hours. I never once bothered texting Caleb the entire time. Instead, he sent me a text consisting of a single question mark. I ignored it. He shot me another text the following day, saying, "The breakfast they serve out here tastes horrible." Blair, who was sitting at the dining table and enjoying breakfast with me, regarded me with unconcealed bewilderment before blurting, "I can't believe you're still here! You actually stayed here instead

He reached back in and brought out a box which he opened for me to see the largest, juiciest, most decadent chocolate-covered strawberries a girl could imagine. Thinking back on that day, it really ought to have been the best day ever. But there were so many more days to come—word of advice: never sell yourself short on your best day ever. Keep looking for that next best day and living for the future rather than reliving the past as your only good day. I still had a wedding to plan for and a whole life with this adorable, loving, romantic man.