Jack Hartmann Goodbye Song Novels & Stories

Then, after one final, lingering look at the diner, he turned and left. When Nissa received the letter, she was momentarily stunned. After Benjamin hovered around her for so long, his sudden, clean departure caught her off guard. She opened the envelope. Inside were two things: a divorce agreement and a single sheet of letter paper. On the soft pink sheet, only two simple lines were written: "I'm leaving. I wish you freedom and happiness." Nissa lowered her gaze and read the two lines over and over. Then, quietly, she folded the letter and slipped it into her pocket.

The background music to, Feeling Good, began to play through the speakers. “Patty, if I thought he wanted to talk bullshit to you I wouldn’t suggest it. He wants to . . . make things right with you,” he said. She walked to Carter. She didn’t want to talk or think about Goldman. She sang the lyrics to the melody that she had listened to for years. She didn’t need the words to know when to come in. “Dragonfly out in the sun, you know what I mean, don’t you know,” she sang flirtatiously as she swirled the plastic stick in her cocktail.

That was when my phone buzzed with an email. I opened it to find a photo of the endless ocean, its blues merging with the sky. There it was, Wynnie's goodbye note. [Kelvin, if you're reading this, I'm probably gone. I've often pondered the cruel jokes of fate. You gave me your whole heart, but I was blind to my own. Now that I've hurt you enough to drive you away, I realize I can't bear a life without you. You might laugh at my words now.

“You deserve it.” He chuckled. “If you keep talking like that, I’ll kidnap you and never let you go.” She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re not serious.” Martins leaned closer, his eyes twinkling. “Try me.” Amara pressed her lips against his briefly. “Bye, darling. I need to go get ready for work.” He exhaled deeply, watching her open the door and step out. “Alright, love,” he said, smiling. “Go conquer the world. I’ll see you soon.”

The shaman priest began to speak, his voice low and mournful. "Today, we come together to say goodbye to two beloved members of our community," he said, his words barely audible over the sound of the rain. "We mourn the passing of two kind souls, who brought joy and happiness to so many of our lives..." The mourners listened with rapt attention, their minds lost in memories of Uma and Damian. A few of them began to weep, their tears mixing with the rain that ran down their faces. "Enough. This is enough." I suddenly interrupted the shaman priest's eulogy.

The final entry had been written on the day I discovered them. Leighton had written a suicide note, every word filled with guilt toward Harley. Even the way she addressed him had changed. She called him "hubby". [Hubby, if I should die unexpectedly one day, everything I own will belong to you.] [As for Logan, I've wronged him. Leave him enough money to live out the rest of his life comfortably, and that will be enough.] The blood in my body turned ice-cold, and my hand gripping the mouse trembled uncontrollably. A violent wave of nausea rose from my stomach. I grabbed the trash can and vomited.

I had fought cancer for eight years. I had waited for Liam for eight years. My greatest wish had only been to see him one more time. Now I had. That was enough. Goodbye, Liam. I love you.

Maybe I had told him long ago. It did not matter. We were just people who used to know each other. I looked down at the road to ignore him, but as I passed, he grabbed my wrist. "I'm sorry, Maddie," he said. I pulled my hand free and replied flatly, "Did you come all this way just to say that? You shouldn't have. You're forgiven. Goodbye." He stepped into my path in panic. "I said I'm sorry, Maddie. Please don't break up with me. I'm begging you."

There are no jerks here. It all felt painfully dull, so I deleted both of them and then changed my phone number. With my admission letter from Capitol City Aerospace University in hand, I packed my luggage and headed to the train station. In the waiting hall, I ran into Joanna and also Dean, who was helping her with her bags. Joanna spotted me first. She avoided Dean, who was busy looking for seats, and walked over, waving at me with a smug smile. “Thanks for lining up half a day to get that ‘blessed’ lucky bracelet,” she said. “It helped me win the piano competition.”