It's Not His Fault He Can't Read Novels & Stories

'' I mutter. ''It's not your fault, Emma. He's ill. It's God's will. It's not your fault.'' He replies, running his hand on the back of his neck before looking up for a few seconds, ''I don't understand why he's suffering so much, I don't like to see him that way. It hurts me too just like how it hurts him,'' He adds. My heart skips a beat at the sound of his voice, very heartbreaking.

Then, softer, “It’s fine.” I nodded once, my hand running my upper arm. “I’m sorry.” The words came out so quietly I almost didn’t recognize my own voice. He studied me for a moment, his eyes searching my face, before saying, “It’s not your fault. Zane is… well, Zane. You couldn’t have known.” I nodded, glancing at the books, the sillness around us. “What I don’t get,” he started again, “is why you’re with him.”

“Look at me.” She reluctantly held his gaze, her own shining with unshed tears. “This is not your fault,” he stated, each word deliberate and clear, meant to penetrate the self-blame that had been drilled into her. “You have nothing to be sorry for. The only people at fault here are Oliver and his mother. What I did, I did because it was the right thing to do. For the hundredth time, you’re not at fault. Do you understand?”

He doesn’t say anything, he clearly blames himself. I move and sit next to him. “It is not your fault. It isn’t my fault. There is only one person to blame. He wanted to break us, and right now, he is succeeding.” I think back to how all this was caused by Max. If he was watching, he would be rubbing his hands together in glee, thinking he has succeeded.

"Stop caring about me." "I cant." He said. "And even if I could, I wouldn't." "Why?" I let a groan with anger evident on my face. "What do you mean why?" He asked incredulously. "I care about you... I.. I care a lot." "You shouldn't be," I said. "My life is miserable. Don't get into it. You can't help with everything." "You said I couldn't help with dyslexia." He reminded me. "But I did, didn't I? I could help you. Which means I can help you with this too!"

This infuriated me so much that I approached him. - What it is? — Released without patience. — You act like you're not ashamed of it. This plan of yours. — The only shame is that he ends up failing, like everyone else. — He responds nervously. — I just don't understand why he does these things... — he says frustrated. — Is it my fault then? We looked. — No. It's my fault. — He says furiously. — It's mine because... — he lets out a strong breath through his nostrils and walks away. — I never know what you're going to do...

Something resigned that broke my heart into even smaller pieces. "Angel," he sighed. He pulled me back in, resting his chin on my head. "You don't have to cry over that. It's not your fault. It's my fault for not managing my finances properly." I folded my hands behind his back, my nails digging crescents into my palms. It wasn't his fault, it was mine.

“Enough mom, enough! I believe we were given one life by God so we could be the author of it and responsible for whatever outcome your decision gives. I'm done living as a pet, like a puppet you can manipulate to whatever acts it is that suits your interests.” He said on top of his voice with a breaking voice like an explosive voice like the lid of a wine popped out as tears dropped from his eyes slowly “I have all my life given you that privilege, won't be bad if I seized it from you on this note” In a lower, calm tone as he cleans off his tears and leaves the room. Mrs Ava was left in disbelief with her jaw, dropping down to her knees. No remorse , but more rage boiling in her veins as she

He had been on the bench for many years, but he allowed himself to be deceived by a young lady. He wished he had listened to Mr Blaze when he asked "What is the rush?" Unfortunately, there was no medicine for regret in this world.

If I had abandoned everything else, if I had just gotten over my shock, my anger, my pain… I would have been there with him. I would have held onto his little hand until my dying breath. But now it’s too late. It’s… It’s all my fault. I stare at him, my eyes welling with tears that refuse to fall now. “ No…It’s…not your fault. ” He scrubs a hand down his face, his eyes bloodshot and tired. “ I have done everything I can, Grace. Everything. And it’s still not enough. It’s still NOT enough. I have gotten my hands on every enemy, any possible threatening person…but they don’t have him. ”