Iam Not Over Novels & Stories

Amanda hasn't come online since we crashed the party. I'm thinking it's her battery. Or she has no data. Both of which are remediable if I knew which. Abe has been online, however, more than usual. Mostly, he's angry—at whom I don't know. How he is throwing shade online you'd think he sells sunglasses, i swear. He's there, talking about: They tried to put me down. But I came. I saw. I conquered. (Fire emoji)#undefeated.

If you don't trust me, nothing I say will matter. "The thing I regret most is not walking away on the spot when I saw your true colors three years ago."

He snapped. “No, I just think that even earlier too, you were mad with me because I was always following around, and now when I am not, you are calling me names. Next what I will be, currently I am an attention whore, then I might be something bigger, like what, the “S” word. Should I spell it for you?” I wheeze. “Don’t put words in my mouth. You know what I am trying to say.” “I am not putting words in your mouth. I am just repeating what you have just said to me.”

Right before the syndicate's power handover, I flew back to New York after a year of studying jewelry design in Europe. But the night before the ceremony, my secret boyfriend of three years—the Rossi family's new second-in-command—sent me a text: [Sorry, Chloe. I lost a card game, and you were my chip. You're his problem now.] Before I could even breathe, I got tagged in the family's encrypted dark-web channel. The top thread was blowing up: [The Mafia Boss Just Won a Fat Pig for a Girlfriend!] Pinned right at the top was an old photo of me from a few years ago. Back when I was 180 pounds. The comment section was ruthless: [If the Boss knew what he actually won, he'd regret making that bet.]

“Am I not allowed to have a good day?” Ami chuckled and hooked her arm in with Ann. “Just find it hard to believe that you are over Eero so quick,” Jessica stated. “Just because I am happy does not mean I am over him,” Ami said. “You met someone, didn’t you?” Ann accused. “Maybe,” Ami teased as they walked into the building. “Good for you,” Jessica said, making Ami feel bad. ‘Will she be ok with me and Wynn?’ Ami wondered.

When I just got out of rehab, I saw a parked Audi. This luxury car appeared out of place next to the small rehab center. I glanced at it and was about to leave. The person who got out of the car called me. It was Mark. He looked more mature than three years ago. But I only took one glance at him.. My teacher at the rehab said it was impolite to stare at others, especially someone you liked. Having spent three years at the rehab, I had been completely brainwashed by teachers there.

“Do you want some?” “Nahhh, I'm good,” I lifted the glass of vodka. “It's good stuff.” “Okay, can we stop pretending we're cool and actually face the elephant in the room,” Amelia snapped, angrily dropping her ice-cream aside. She turned, facing me squarely now. “What happens after now?” “What happens after what?” I asked. Her eyes widened in disbelief. I chugged down my drink like it was nothing. “Seriously? That's all you have to say?” she raised her voice this time, scrambling to be feet. “We've been together for a whole fucking month. You've used us as much as you want and now the term is over, you’re just going to pretend it's nothing?”

I am too fabulous to chase a man. That's a huge ironic statement for a sucker like me. I wonder where's Jericho. I bet he is home. "I am glad that everyone is here to celebrate with me. I am delighted to see some familiar faces too, coming from my relatives, investors, and business partners. Tonight, let us toast for this massive success! Cheers, Ladies and Gentlemen!" Getting bored with the ambiance, I decided to step back because I feel unsettled, so I excused myself to my mom and dad.

Yohan's voice was hoarse. "What you said was right. That's why I only wanted to take good care of myself now," I said. "Have your memories returned to you, Naomi?" Yohan's tone was more careful than I'd heard before. "I've never lost my memories from the start. We'll meet in the courtroom in a month. Also, don't bother thinking I'll come back begging for you after I recover my memories," I gritted. "Things have ended between us for good." I could hear something glass-like breaking from the other end of the line. Without waiting for his reply, I ended the call and blocked his number. I would only contact him a month later.

"I'm burned out from Brittany's shit." "My what now?" Brit asks. "You're shit. I'm done with your drama. I'm leaving. Call me when you decide I'm important to you." "You're a real bitch when you're on your period," Brit says. "Yes, I know. So are you? Bye Brit."