Missed Connections Book Novels & Stories

That day, traffic was completely gridlocked, and the ambulance could not reach me. Mindy happened to drive by. She was the one who rushed me to the hospital. She saved my life. That was how we found each other again. "It's all my fault. "If I hadn't been in such a hurry to get back to Avalon City for work, Nancy wouldn't have had the chance to treat you like this." I shook my head. "She’s been cheating on me for a long time. Even if you'd stayed in Capital City, this would still be something I have to face myself."

Victor said. "Because if I do something from where I am rather than from where she is, I'll misread the distance." Adrian said. "And misreading the distance is how you lose it. Not through dramatic failure. Through incremental presumption. One conversation that assumes more than she has offered. One gesture that asks for confirmation she has not given. One moment of reaching that reveals you are holding something she has not yet placed in your hands." He picked up his cup. "The last time you got ahead of where she was, you spent ten years making her feel invisible." Victor said.

Far from the noise, it felt like stepping through time—every mile quiet, unpredictable. Mountains, lakes, oceans, old ruins, crowded cities—they all stuck with me. And somewhere along the way, I met Mira Mendoza. Gentle. Strong. Like morning light. Her smile hit like a warm spring breeze, clearing out the last of the gloom in me. She was sharp. Effortless. I was all in before I knew it. I knew—she was the one I wanted for the rest of my life. *** I flew back. I missed home—and I already missed Mira.

A small acknowledgment, a tiny connection, and suddenly the day — with all its errands, work, and ordinary tasks had taken on a new rhythm. Somewhere between the quiet of my apartment and the stillness outside, I understood something I hadn’t before. Connection didn’t have to be dramatic. It didn’t have to be overwhelming or urgent. Sometimes, it lived in the little gestures: a shared coffee, a brush of hands, a glance held a second too long.

He goes away while I'm staring at everyone, trying to keep myself busy with my thoughts even though I feel out of place. He returned with a canned drink; we found a spot to see and finally sat. I suck at starting up a conversation; instead, I focus on scrolling through my phone while Daniel discusses it with the rest of the people sitting with us; it's a table of four. Then everywhere goes silent; the author of the book goes to the stage, and behind the stage is a projector displaying the book with animation that accompanies it. Titled, “When I broke free”It's a middle-aged woman, possibly in her late 40s.She begins.

Longing. Fear. I watched it all carefully. And beneath the movement. I noticed something strange. The lost connections remained present. Not physically. Emotionally. Patterns still oriented around absences long after separation occurred. Silences where certain voices used to respond. Hesitations before speaking thoughts once shared freely with someone now gone. The network carried ghosts. My chest tightened. “They still shape the system.” “Yes.” “Even after leaving.” “Yes.” That unsettled me deeply. Because I had spent so long understanding connection through presence.

I've missed them a lot! Please check out my other book, "Spirals:Tattoo in my mind" while you wait. Thanks a lot for understanding 😊 ~~ Love Marvy-dee

In the depths of his memory, the symphony of connection echoed through the ethereal landscape, weaving its melodies through the hearts of its inhabitants. This chapter was a testament to the power of human relationships, the beauty of vulnerability, and the transformative nature of deep connection. As Nathan and Miranda navigated the unexplored territory, they found themselves drawn to a vibrant city nestled between towering mountains and glistening lakes. It was a place where people from all walks of life converged, seeking solace, inspiration, and the shared experience of being human.