Novel & Cerita Leaving Was The Only War I Won

"You're willing to kill me for Jasmine? Don't you have a conscience?! "I wasn't there for you when you were blind, but so what? If we're talking about who wronged who, wasn't it you who promised to love me forever? You said I was the only one who could be your wife! But when the Graham family forced me to leave the country, what were you doing? You were arguing with Jasmine!

I’ll nod when you write words you don’t mean. But in my heart, oh, in my heart—I will never forget. I’ll remember the sound of your voice on the other end of those calls. I’ll remember the way your hands shook when I caught you watching me. I’ll remember the pain in my chest, the way the world blurred, the way I almost died tonight. This isn’t love anymore. It’s war. And you don’t even know I’ve joined the battlefield. So go ahead. Keep writing on your little screen. Keep pretending you care. Because I’ll keep pretending too. Let’s see who wins. You hide. I seek.

I've been granted early release from prison for good behavior. My three brothers come to pick me up, and they bring a dog chain with them. Ashton Scott, my eldest brother, hands it over and says coolly, "Put it on. You're not allowed to take it off until we reach the house. This is the final test. Once you pass, you'll officially be a daughter of the Scott family." Dalton Scott, my second brother, pats me on the shoulder and sighs. "You must've had a rough seven years. But that smell coming off you… You'd better shower three times before you join us at the dining table later." Preston Scott looks me up and down, his brows furrowed. "Why have you lost so much weight? But I guess it works o

Over summer break, right after graduation, my parents, Stuart and Rachel Powell, decided the whole family would take a road trip together. But the moment I hauled my suitcase up to the car door, Mom's hand shot out to stop me. "There's no room. Maybe you should just sit this one out." She glanced back at the seat behind her. "Aiden doesn't want you along, either. He's not feeling well right now, so give way to him." My knuckles went white on the suitcase handle, and my throat turning bitter. Aiden was the biological son they'd lost years ago and only just found again. Ever since he came back, everything that used to be mine had gone to him. Slowly, I'd been pushed to the margins of t

Smiling faintly, he teased, "What kind of novel got you that worked up?" Heather met his gaze evenly. "It's about a couple everyone envies. But the man cheats on the woman when their relationship is tested by time. He wants to have both but ends up losing everything. Mitchell… would you ever be like him?" Mitchell's hand trembled slightly before he quickly steadied it. Pulling her into a tight embrace, he murmured, "Novels aren't real. No one could ever come between us. I'd never fall for someone else, Heather. You have to trust in my love for you."

It was a world that bent when I spoke and was a room meant for more than one person, holding only me. I hadn’t lost Ella in a battle. I had given her up to keep winning a war that no longer felt worth fighting.

She had forgiven him, but she had not said she would stay. Even when facing a dying man, she would not offer false hope or kind lies. Ethan closed his eyes. A wave of grief washed over him. At the same time, there was a strange peace beneath it. Maybe this was what he deserved. He breathed out, voice barely audible, "If we could start fresh in our next life, I'll treat you right… I promise." With that final whisper, he let go. Ethan was gone.

By the time I got there, the event had just ended. I watched as Vivian, Liam, and Desiree left the building with bright smiles on their faces. Trying to maintain my composure, I said, "You must've had a long day, Desiree. I'm here to pick you up." To my surprise, Desiree instantly hid behind Liam. With a look of contempt, she snapped, "I don't want to leave with you! You're an uncultured person. I want Liam to be my dad instead!" I froze for a brief moment. Then, I recalled how strangely she'd been behaving recently.

She crouched down in front of me, dabbing the ointment onto my hand with extreme care. I stayed silent. Every time we fought, she did exactly this. She would buy the things I loved, convinced that throwing money at a conflict would fix it. For over 20 years, that tactic had never failed her. I had forgiven her every single time. This time, I simply yanked my hand back. She froze mid-motion, her fingers suspended in the air. "I'm going to start looking for a job tomorrow," I said evenly. "I won't be staying here anymore."

I had made up my mind to leave that place and head somewhere far away. It was a choice I had made on my own. I wanted to get away from all those people and things and start a brand-new life for myself. "She's been asking to see you, insisting on one last meeting," the police officer said, looking at me with a hint of pity. "Will you go?" I stopped what I was doing with my hands for a moment. I remembered her in a white dress, smiling at me in the field, and the firm way she wrote the word 'quagmire' in her autobiography as she was dying.