I Won T Forgive You So Stop Waiting Novels & Stories

I exclaimed. "I -I don't know what to think anymore." "I understand if you think like that because of what happened is still fresh but I believe that everything will be okay at the right time. I just hope you will not give up on us. You know I will do everything so that you will forgive me, I will not rush you in that matter and I’m willing to wait.” I said.

I'll still freeze him with my stares until he can't take it anymore. "Are you done? Because honestly, I'm done hearing your bullshits. I'm already tired of those kinds of explanations. I don't even know if I'll still believe you. I can't even take it that it feels like my ears will bleed. You're just being too annoying instead ok making me decide to forgive you, old man. Hear this, ok? I. Will. Never. Forgive. You!" I exclaimed with hardness in my voice to every word I'm saying and I just saw him looking down as if feeling every word that are coming from me. I know how my words can hit him but I won't even care less for him. He deserves those actually.

“We failed you. We judged you. We hurt you.” They all looked like they wanted to cry. “We don’t want to force you to say anything,” Steve said. “We don’t want to rush you,” Irish added. “We’ll wait,” Zayne said. “Forever, if we have to.” I stood silent for a while. Then I said slowly, “You want me to forgive you.” They all nodded. “You want me to come back.” They nodded again. “You say you’ll wait forever.” “Yes,” Zayne said. I looked at them one by one. “Then you’ll have to earn it.”

I shook my head wildly, tears streaming down my face, my voice raspy. "That's enough!" Trevor interrupted, his voice sharp with irritation. He turned to the officers, his tone unnervingly steady. "My wife's been really struggling since we lost our son." He paused for a beat before adding, "As a family member of the deceased, can I write a forgiveness letter?" His words sent a chill down my spine. "What?" I stared at him, eyes wide like I'd just been hit with a jolt. My mind went blank. The officers seemed just as shocked.

“Are you tired of me avoiding you? Because if you are, you can stop now. No one’s forcing you to chase after me. This is all on you. I’ve told you to stop countless times, but you just don’t listen.” “Because I want your forgiveness, Jazz. It’s been so long, and I’ve already explained why I did what I did. Isn’t that enough for us to move on? What do you want me to do? I’ll do anything. Just tell me. Do you want me on my knees? I’ll do that.”

“Nothing can change that fact and I’m aware of it, but I’ll try to make it right, even if it takes my whole life to do it. ” “The way and reason I took her, I did it to protect them both, because as soon as I saw Hope, I was suspicious, because part of me was pulling me to her.” " It’s true that Emma will probably never forgive me, and that she probably sees a monster in me, the same monster that hurt her, but I’m ready for it, as long as she’s safe and when the danger stops, she’ll have a choice to decide for herself, I won’t stop her.”

And the way she chatters on and on about things I can’t make sense of but I would rather cut off my right arm than not listen to her. I miss her. I miss her something fierce and I want her back. I need her back in my life. But I fucked up. I know that I fucked up. I realized it as soon as I knew there was no hiding again. I fucked up so much and so hard that this time, this time I can’t fix it. I can’t push it. I can’t afford to push her. I will wait. I will wait for however long it takes her to forgive me. It doesn’t matter if she never does.

“I don’t expect forgiveness. Not tonight. Maybe not ever. But I need you to know I love you. I love you so much it hurts to breathe when you’re not next to me.” I pressed my palm flat against the door. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait out here all night if I have to. I’ll wait until you’re ready to look at me again. Even if it takes years.” My voice dropped to a whisper. “But please… don’t shut me out forever.”

Just love. Sophia was silent for a long, long moment. She set her plate down on the table. Her hands were trembling slightly. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I really don’t know. Part of me wants to. A big part of me. But I’m so tired of being hurt. I’m starting to think I might forgive him. Not right now. Not tomorrow. But maybe someday. When the pain isn’t so sharp. When I can look at him and not just see all the lonely nights.”

Because I can’t fix the past, but I can stop making it worse. I don’t expect forgiveness. I don’t expect visits. I just want them to have options one day. If they ever want to know me. I’ll be here. —D I read it three times. Then I deleted it. Turned off the phone. Curled into Lucian’s side. Listened to him breathe. And wondered—not for the first time—if forgiveness was something you gave for the other person, or something you gave yourself so you could finally stop carrying the weight.