My Fault Novels & Stories

“Look at me.” She reluctantly held his gaze, her own shining with unshed tears. “This is not your fault,” he stated, each word deliberate and clear, meant to penetrate the self-blame that had been drilled into her. “You have nothing to be sorry for. The only people at fault here are Oliver and his mother. What I did, I did because it was the right thing to do. For the hundredth time, you’re not at fault. Do you understand?”

“This i‍s all your fault. Yo‍ur s⁠ecrets pu‍shed us here. If‌ you’d been hon⁠e⁠s‍t fro​m the start,⁠ m‍aybe w​e could’ve t‍alked instead of end⁠ing u⁠p​ at that damn p‍ar​ty!” “My fault? You che‌ated, Conrad! That’s on you. You chose to let‌ h⁠er do that.​ And now you’re bl​a⁠mi​ng me for your weakne⁠ss?⁠” Tears welle‌d up again, but⁠ I wiped them away‌ furiously‌. “I t‌h⁠ought we were‍ tr​ying‌ to fix th‌ings, but​ you just made it wors‌e.”

Tears start falling before I can stop them, and suddenly I'm sobbing into her shoulder like I'm fourteen again, scared and alone and drowning in guilt. "It's my fault," I choke out between sobs, the words tearing from my throat like confessions. "Mum, it's all my fault. The message on the wall—someone wrote my real name, said it was my fault, and they're right. Gray got hurt because of me. Because I exist. Because I can't just disappear and stop bringing danger to everyone I care about." The moment the words leave my mouth, Mum's body goes completely still against mine. Not comforting still, irrit

Because all of this was my fault. I failed my friend. I failed my boyfriend. I failed everyone thinking things were more under control than what they actually were. Naive, that's what I'd been. I should have done something about it. A better person would have. "I-I'm sorry." I whispered, tears falling free now and my chest burning like fire. This was all my fault.

“Definitely, and it is my fault.” “No, no.” Renata shakes her head. “It's not your fault.” she confidently tells me. Her words are comforting but I can not live in the delusion of being right when I've wronged my husband so much over a misunderstanding. I let father plot his coup before he even takes the throne, it's my fault, I'm to blame, like every damn time since my first breath on this dammed earth. “But you don't know what happened,” I point out.

"Come on, Rain. Open the door." Nothing. I hesitated, then let out a sigh, laying my hand against the wood once more. "I'm sorry." The silence between us drew out. "I know you're blaming yourself," I went on. "I know exactly what's running through your head right now. That if you had done something different, Faith would be safe. That it's your fault Nathan took her. That it's your fault anyone is in danger." Another pause. Then, barely above a whisper, "It is my fault."

I blame my fucking self; I was the one who told her to get out of the house and go do something other than sit here in the nursery driving herself crazy with the little things she felt needed to be done. I blame myself, it’s all my fucking fault she's once again gone. The amber liquid in the crystal glass I hold in my hand is doing nothing to silence the fucking voice in my head that's taunting me with its words. ‘It keeps saying it’s your fucking fault, it’s your fucking fault, it's your fucking fault.’

I sat down next to her, , deciding to forfeit the pop quiz altogether. Who was I fooling, anyway? I couldn't walk away while she was hurting even though she didn't care about me. "It's not your fault." I said with a sigh. "Yes, it is. It is absolutely my fault. All of it!' he had shown me exactly who he is several times and several times, I have ignored it " She swallowed. "There's no excuse this time. I can't believe I let him trick me. Maybe this is just Karma." "Karma for what?" I frowned in confusion.

“I’m just trying to tell you the truth. I was just telling you that it wasn’t my fault.” Xavier’s exasperated laugh was bitter and full of pain. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. “No, Dad. It was never your fault, was it? It’s my fault. I’m the fool here. I’m the one who’s been forced to clean up every damn mess you make, who’s fought to keep us from sinking under all this bullshit. You ran over a couple who were just walking down the street, and you think you’re going to pass it off as ‘bad luck’? No, Dad. This is your fault. And you can’t even own it.”