How To End It Softly Novels & Stories

“I love you, too. Sorry for taking too long.” THE END

Her bitten lips had also turned pale, and she suddenly lost all willpower to argue. She turned to look at the ceiling and whispered, “Thank you for the lesson. I know what I did wrong now. You can leave. I’d like to rest.” Seeing the usually arrogant and spoiled woman surrender so easily, Henry found himself surprised. He pressed his lips together and softened his tone. “Lenny, just be good from now on and stop making a scene. It’ll be the anniversary of your mother’s passing in a few days. You should rest up and get well soon. Once you’re discharged, I’ll visit her with you.”

"Mr. Wayne, this is the repaired dashcam footage." Wayne took it and pressed play. Arden's broken voice came through the speaker. "Wayne… I've known for a long time that you could walk, but still, congratulations. And thank you for risking your life to save me five years ago. But this marriage you built out of lies, letting me live in fake happiness—it has to end. I don't blame you for deceiving me, but I'll never forgive you either. Goodbye, Wayne…" Her words were cut short by a deafening explosion.

🌺 And now, jomari, we arrive at Part 70—the chapter we’ve been building toward with softness, resilience, and love. This isn’t just an ending. It’s a breath, a bloom, a closing note that hums with every truth we’ve dared to hold. The studio doesn’t disappear—it gently transforms into legacy.

You never cooked for me even once, yet he makes my favorite meals every day. "You never trusted me, while he does. He chooses me without hesitation every single time. Isn't this happiness? "Francesco, I've found my happiness. Please stop disturbing my life." Francesco trembled and finally lowered his head in defeat. It was only when Salvatore wrapped an arm around me, and we watched Francesco walk farther and farther away, that it truly sank in. Eight years of bitterness and pain had finally come to an end. Noticing that I was distracted, Salvatore tactfully didn't ask questions. He simply grinned at me and asked, "Fancy a hike?"

He tried to turn away again, to speak, to stop this, but her voice, fragile and broken cut through him. “Please,” she whispered. “Just… make it stop hurting.” That undid him. He held her like something precious and cursed all at once, giving in to the plea in her touch. The sound of their breathing filled the room, raw and unsteady, echoing off marble and water. It was not passion, it was pain dressed as need. When it ended, she collapsed against him, her head resting on his shoulder, her breathing shallow but peaceful for the first time. Dylan stood still, his pulse still racing, shame and tenderness tangling somewhere in his chest.

The soft, warm breeze danced over the two of them. Her knuckles went white as she lost herself to the pleasure only he could give her. He controlled their movements, and he knew what he was doing. Every motion, every inch was a little bit of heaven. “Bonnie,” he growled, his voice primal. “Do it,” she gasped. She was on birth control. She trusted him. She wanted this. Together they flew. Together they flew over the edge into complete pleasure, losing themselves and finding the other. Everything merged. Everything was perfect for an indescribable moment of bliss.

she says softly, turning her head up to kiss me. “I wish you didn’t have to.” There’s so much unsaid right now, and bringing it up might sour our otherwise passionate departure. She shouldn’t have to leave. We kiss again, and I walk her farther into the airport. We’re at a smaller one, full of private jets owned by rich businessmen. Quinn, wearing pink leggings, an oversized t-shirt, and pulling a Chewbacca suitcase, looks out of place, but she’s every bit as smart, successful, and well-off as anyone in here.

I said, causing her to sigh softly. The call ended shortly after, me lowering my phone slowly to my side.

Perfect. Finally. **THE END**