Just Can't Say Goodbye Novels & Stories

"Lost in your drama? Drop the sob story." Grief overflowed, and my vision swam. "Wish it was fiction." I yanked the suitcase back and bolted. Her taunt echoed. "Stay gone since you're so tough! We'll pretend you're six feet under!" I paused, wiping my tears. As they wished, I would die out there.

she implores, and what little resolve I had crumbles. “You’ve got five minutes, Harrison,” I say her surname to lift the fog from my head. Reason must prevail here. “Okay, but come sit down.” I allow her to guide me back to the sofa to sit next to her. She takes a deep breath and releases it. “I think that the reason we’re having such a difficult time of letting go is because we had no closure. We didn’t know that would be our last time together, so we didn’t get a chance to appreciate and savor the moment. We didn’t get a chance to properly say goodbye.” Bashfully, she lowers her gaze to her hands folded in her lap. “Maybe we could do that now and make peace with it on our terms.”

But when I woke up, I was still alone, paying for sins I'll never outrun. "Goodbye, Gina. I wish you and Ryan nothing but joy. In the next life, I swear I won't let you down." I shook the envelope, and a necklace fell out. It was the one that held the ashes of our first baby, Jeremy's last tether to the past, but now he had given it to me. Behind me, Ryan called out, asking me to cut the cake. I called back, slipping the letter into my drawer. Then, I fastened the necklace around my neck and walked toward him.

"Diagnosed with what? What are you saying?" "Those pills were the only reason I could stand up and cook you breakfast," she said, her voice cracking for the first time. "They were the only reason I could dance with you at the gala without screaming. I just wanted to make it to the end of the contract. I just wanted to leave you with one good memory so you wouldn't hate me when I was gone." She looked at the empty toilet bowl, the water still swirling. "But I don't think I’m going to make it to Day 100 now, Arthur," she whispered. "I don't think I'm going to make it at all."

His cloudy eyes looked at me, filled with something that felt like regret… or maybe longing. In the end, he did not come over. He only asked a little girl nearby to bring each of us a rose. They were wilted, probably picked out of a trash bin. The girl passed them to us and said, "That man over there asked me to tell you… he's sorry. He's going to die." Thora looked at the rose in her hand and asked me, "Mom… is that Dad? Is he going to die?" The little girl who delivered the message looked confused. "What does 'die' mean?"

After that was done, he felt as if a weight he'd carried for years had finally been lifted. He knew this was the only thing he could still do for her. At the airport, throngs of people moved about. Harrison sat in the VIP lounge, watching planes take off and land through the glass window, his phone resting in his hand. The number on the screen was one he knew by heart. He hesitated for a long time before typing a single message. "Wishing you true freedom and peace. I'm sorry." There was no sign-off. He knew she'd understand, or maybe she wouldn't care who it came from at all.

We could maybe make it as friends, but it would never be anything more than that. I hung up, unable to bring myself to say goodbye to her. I dropped my phone down on the couch and blindly groped for my beer, taking a healthy sip of it. I couldn’t help wishing that doing the right thing wasn’t so hard. We had both done what we had to do. Things just hadn’t worked out. Goodbyes suck. That was all that I could think. I took another sip of beer.

“Lydia, thank you for your donation. It’s truly a lifesaver.” “No need to thank me,” I replied calmly. “It’s all money from a scumbag, so I spent it with a clear conscience.” The sum was insignificant compared to Dylan’s extravagant lifestyle, but for the orphanage, it could provide the children with a brighter future. A bitter smile crossed my face as I wrestled with mixed emotions. “Did you and Dylan... fight again?” Olivia asked cautiously. “We broke up.” “You’ve broken up a hundred times before.” “This time, it’s real.”

A look that says he still cares even though we have pulled away from one another. I almost say it. I almost tell him I miss him sometimes, that I miss the person I was when we were close, that I miss the ease, the laughter, the comfort. But I cannot. What we had is gone. It cannot come back. Too much has happened. Too much has changed. So instead I say, “Goodbye, Jonathan.” He nods once. “Take care of yourself, Char.” After he leaves, Mom walks me to my car. We hug for a long time before I finally pull away.

“After this, no more delays. Tonight. Private ceremony. Just us. Then I’m knotting you until you can’t walk.” Tears slipped down my cheeks—happy, relieved, free. “Yes. A thousand goodbyes to everything before. Hello to you.” He kissed them away. “A thousand goodbyes.” We stayed locked on the table, hearts hammering in sync, while the city hummed outside and the bond sang its final, unbreakable note. I was Alisa Moretti. I was Kael Draven’s mate. And I had never been more free.