Never Gone Novels & Stories

I hope they're near eachother! From Jovanababy👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩:Um? Bitch?! Hello?! 4 days ago From Jovanababy👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩: why have u gone missing? From Jovanababy👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩: okay well anyways... 3 days ago From Jovanababy👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩: I'm back bitchhhhh!!!!

"No one has. He's gone." I held my breath as the sounds around me became muffled as if I were underwater. Gone? What did she mean, gone? Roman Wellington was not the type of man who simply disappeared. He was a force of nature, unmovable, unshakeable. "What do you mean, gone?" I croaked, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears.

In the end of her blabbering she didn't get any response. "Are you done?" Came the deep husky voice with Italian accent and heart skipped a beat.

I need to be at my office at eight. I went home not knowing how to face Ange. I don't know if I will asked for forgiveness or just keep quiet and acted like nothing happened. I face palm myself and turned the door knob. The house is so quiet. Is she still asleep? Then that is much better. I don't need to face her. I quietly went to my room but was meet by an empty bed. Ange isn't here anymore. Even her stuffs are gone. Maybe she already went to the airport. I don't know but I kinda miss her and was disappointed that she isn't here.

My sister, Nancy Wood, wanted to be the family's only child, so my mother had my name changed and handed my identification documents over to my grandmother. She even told me I had to pay for everything if I wanted to live under their roof. The change and coupons Nancy got from her shopping were the sole source of allowance I'd get. If she saved 30 dollars from her shopping trips, I would get 30 dollars next month. It was the last day for all students to enter their applications for college. I begged my sister to let me use her computer. She extended her hand. "You have to pay me 20 bucks." I fished all the money out of my pocket. I only had 19 dollars. So, I hastily blurted in a panic, "I

"No need. What's past is past." Ignoring his reaction, I turned and walked upstairs. Back in the bedroom, I sent a text message to my best friend: [I want a divorce.] The message had barely been sent when the bedroom door was pushed open. Brian walked in and pulled me straight into his embrace. "Honey, don't be upset," he murmured. "I really just forgot because I've been overwhelmed with so many business dinners lately." An unfamiliar perfume drifted from his clothes. Unable to hold it in, I shoved him away, doubled over, and dry-heaved.

At the time, he said, “It’s just a ring. I don’t see the point in having it engraved.” I replied, my tone serious, “It does mean something. “This ring will bear witness to our forever.” Yet, I left the ring behind. It sat there like a quiet, final judgment. Jordan shuffled forward and reached out to grab the ring. His hands were shaking. “How did this happen… “How could Eve leave me…” Whipping out his phone, Jordan dialed my number. The call wouldn’t go through. His second attempt didn’t even connect. Third time wasn’t the charm. The voice of a cold, automated operation came on.

Tried not to think about late nights, closed hotels, language barriers, or the fact that I was suddenly very aware of how far from home I was. Then my phone buzzed in my hand. The vibration was sharp and sudden, cutting through the quiet like a warning bell. Relief surged instinctively as I glanced down. Good, I thought. Information. Solutions. It evaporated instantly. We regret to inform you that due to unforeseen circumstances, your reservation has been cancelled. I stared at the screen. Then I read it again. And again. Like repetition might soften the words. Like maybe they would rearrange themselves into something less final.

The only thing that stood out was that basket of bright red strawberries. A laugh slipped out of me, sudden and out of place, and the tears I had been holding back finally fell, pulling at the stitches that had just been sewn. The pain hit so hard that I curled up on the bed. After seven years with Charles, he had forgotten that I was allergic to strawberries, and as for the promise he made to come back, no one came, not even once, not until half a month later, when I was discharged. Meanwhile, Melissa's social media had been set to special notifications on my phone, and she updated almost every day, every post filled with photos of her traveling with Charles.

No answer. He knocked again, this time louder. A neighbor peeked through their window, but no one came to open the door. “They’re gone,” Davis muttered, stepping away from the door. Aaron turned to the neighbor, forcing a polite smile. “Excuse me, do you know where they went?” The old man shook his head. “Packed up and left a few days ago. Didn’t say where.” Aaron clenched his jaw. He and Davis tried the second man’s home, only to find the same thing—the house was empty.