Lost In Him Novels & Stories

Anytime he's in this mood, he behaves like a ghost, even the closest person won't hear his footsteps. On Dean's way to the ward, he started thinking of the last time he saw him looking like that and he could remember that it was when he noticed that Mr Austin's men were after him because of his treasure. And up till now Rock and his men are still in prison. So Dean knows that whoever he has in mind to deal with is finished as he saw him in that mood. Clearing his throat, Dean pushed the door open and walked into the ward, Immediately he dropped his laptop on a small table very close to the sofa, Madam Ponny asked, "Where's Eduardo?"

He could hear his heart beat rapidly as he pivoted in the water, looking for a trace of her, eyes wide open in the salty water. It hurt to remind himself that every second counted, hard to come to terms with the fact that one wrong mistake was all it took to lose her forever. Lose her forever? What the hell was he thinking? He didn't hide her in Rome to fucking lose her! He delved deeper, and he saw it—the outstretched fingers, hopelessly reaching for the sunlight and helplessly giving into the depths that were owning her as rapidly as they could. Not fucking today. Narrowingly kicking his legs into action, and with an outstretched hand, he reached for her, his breath slowly cutting short as

It was as if she had become someone else. Their marriage was not what he imagined, and the chances of him winning her back were slipping away with each passing moment. He felt like his entire world had been shattered, and, without thinking, he bent down to pick up the shards, his own sorrow hiding behind the gesture. His finger was cut by the glass, blood dripping from the wound…

Adam murmured. He drummed his fingers on the cover again, slower this time. “The crazy part? He didn’t lose her because of the sex, or even the lie itself. He lost her because the version of him she connected to didn’t exist.” He paused. “But then he shows up as himself.” Adam nodded slightly, almost like he respected that part. “That’s the only real move he had left. No game, no angle. Just… here’s the truth, take it or leave it.”

It’s about rewriting everything. Us. Him. Me. And if I don’t stop this— I’m going to lose him. Not physically. Not completely. But worse. I’m going to lose the part of him that chose me. And I don’t know if I can bring it back.

“I know you are here. I can see you. I can touch you. I can hear you telling me I am impossible, which should make it easier to believe.” A humorless breath left him. “But there is a part of me still standing in that smoke.” I reached for his hand. This time, he let me take it without hesitation. His fingers closed around mine too tightly, then loosened as if he remembered I was not something he could hold by force. “I have lost things before,” he said quietly. “Money. Deals. Allies. People who decided betrayal was more profitable than loyalty. I understand loss when it comes with a lesson. I understand how to make it useful.”

The city outside had turned dark, and his reflection stared back at him through the glass tired, older, lonelier than he remembered. He stayed there long after midnight, alone with the truth he’d spent years avoiding: He hadn’t just lost Amara. He’d lost the version of himself that knew how to love her right. And some things, no matter how much you regret them, can never be undone.

"Sometimes the hard choice is the only choice. Sometimes one life is worth sacrificing so hundreds can survive. There are people who understand this. People who can make problems disappear. Quietly. Cleanly. An accident. A power surge gone wrong. It happens with unstable hybrids." "Stop," Celeste whispers, but it's barely a protest. "You don't have to decide now." He slides a card across the table—blank except for a phone number. "But when you're ready to take back what you've lost, when you're ready to save this pack from itself... you know where to find me." He stands and disappears into the crowd before she can respond. Celeste stares at the card. Her hand trembles as she reaches toward i

"Because I don't know why, but losing you feels like the worst thing that could happen. Worse than the accident. Worse than the pain. Just... worse." My throat tightens. He doesn't know me. Doesn't remember me. But his body, his instincts, his heart recognize something. Five years of watching from a distance. What was he looking for? What did he see? "Rest," I tell him. "We'll talk in the morning." "Promise you'll be here?" "I promise." His eyes close. His hand loosens but doesn't let go. I stand there. Holding the hand of my family's destroyer. And wondering if I just made the biggest mistake of my life.

His grip tightened around the phone as he stared at the floor to ceiling window in his office, the city lights glittering below like mocking stars. He didn’t want to hear about Ave anymore. Not her whereabouts. Not her life. Not her smile. Because every thought of her now only fueled the irritation gnawing at his chest An irritation he refused to admit was something far more dangerous. Regret.