Ketika Cinta Harus Memilih Novels & Stories

"If I am to be your mistress, I have no choice in sides. But if I am to be your love, then I must choose sides based on what my heart tells me I should do." Cesar swallows thickly and looks at me in wonder. "And… what does your heart tell you that you should do?" I tear my eyes away from the fire and look back at him in the seat that he sits upon. "My heart tells me that I should choose my love." "And you love me?" "Of course I love you," I reply with a smile. I kiss his hand when he reaches out to touch me again.

"It was. But it was true. And I took him back. And we figured it out together." "How?" "One day at a time. One argument at a time. Love is not a feeling, baby. It is a choice. You wake up every day and you choose each other. Even when it is hard. Especially when it is hard." I held the phone against my ear. My grandmother's voice was steady and sure. "You think he will come back?" I asked. "I do not know. But if he does, you have to decide if you can forgive him for leaving. And if you can, you choose him. Every day. That is the only way it works."

“That’s not love. That’s guilt.” I stared at him. “Then what is love?” I asked quietly. He studied me carefully. “Love is choosing someone even when you remember what it felt like to choose someone else.” The room felt still. “You don’t erase Roman to love me,” he said. “And you don’t erase me to love him.” My chest tightened. “You just decide where you belong.” Tears blurred my vision again. “I don’t know where that is,” I admitted.

“And I know he’s going to hurt you again. That’s just who he is, Jacob. He breaks things. People. Hearts. But I’m still here. I never really left.” “Exactly,” he countered. “You never left. That’s the problem.” “Why?” “Because I didn’t ask you to stay.” That struck deep. “I would’ve done anything for you,” I insisted. “Still would.” “That’s not love.” “Then what is?” He turned to face me, his eyes locking onto mine. “Love is a choice. It’s about being chosen. Not just lingering around waiting for someone to break you.” I swallowed hard. “If he hurts you again..:”

‎ ‎She smiled, tears in her eyes. ‎ ‎“Choose love.” ‎ ‎The family murmured agreement, hands touching the stones, the flowers, the earth. ‎ ‎A young boy—descendant of Kael, wild and red-eyed—spoke up. “But how do you choose love when it’s hard?” ‎ ‎Ember looked at him, then at the oak, then at the sky. ‎ ‎“By remembering it’s a choice,” she said. “Not a feeling that comes and goes. A decision you make every day. Even when you’re tired. Even when you’re scared. Even when it would be easier not to.”

"Can't let any of them sacrifice themselves. There has to be another way." "There is one." She looks at me. "You can stay dead. Let them grieve. Let them heal. Let them eventually move on. It will hurt. But they'll survive." "That's not an option." "Then choose." Her voice turns hard. "Pick which mate dies. Or they'll keep fighting. Keep tearing each other apart. Until they all destroy themselves trying to save you." I look at them. My four loves. My everything. How do I choose? How do I sentence one of them to death?

--- And this time— That was enough. --- Because love doesn’t always come back as certainty. Sometimes— It comes back as a choice. --- And she had just made hers. ---

Sarah said halfway through the meal. I blinked. "What?" "Whoever she is. The woman you're thinking about instead of talking to me." I should have lied. But I was tired of lying. "No," I admitted. "I'm not." She smiled sadly. "I appreciate the honesty. For what it's worth, she's an idiot if she didn't choose you." "She chose someone better." "Better for her, maybe. Not necessarily better." Sarah took a sip of wine. "But we don't get to choose who we love or who loves us back. We just get to choose how we handle it."

"Like in the movies?" Emma looked out at the garden. She looked at the bronze statue near the rose bushes—the man and the woman sitting on a bench, looking at the horizon. "More," Emma said. "Movies end when the credits roll. They loved each other through the boring parts. Through the sick parts. Through the parts where they wanted to give up but didn't." She leaned forward. "That's the secret," Emma whispered to the children. "Love isn't a feeling. It's a choice. You choose it every morning when you wake up. You choose it when you're tired. You choose it when you're scared."

As we opened our doors Kristoff turned to face me and said. “It’s up to you on how you handle this, but usually there are signs that would tell you if you should hold on or let go. Just a reminder though, decisions made when you’re either so angry or so happy are usually wrong decisions. Which is why we fought first before finally making a decision. And lastly, just because you didn’t get to take home the girl it doesn’t mean you can’t love her, because the most beautiful love in the world, is the love that’s unconditional.”