Never Is A Promise Novels & Stories

It's a promise, one that needs no words. I am not leaving this deal the same.

He said nothing but, in that silence, there was a promise: This isn’t over.

} “What? Why not?” {Because I made a promise to her mother, Mrs. Lapuz.} Nate’s eyebrow rises. “A promise? To do what?” {To stay away from Katey.} “That’s bulls*it! So what? Just break it.” {I can’t. One of a chatbot’s directives is to never make a promise we can’t keep. Logically, a sub-directive is to never break a promise we have made.} “Whoa! I did hear something like this from Kate. About how chatbots like you can’t lie either. Right? Can’t you really break any of those rules?”

he said while disconnecting the call. "Swara, I know after this you would hate me more but I have no other ways left to keep you with me. I recorded the video when I kissed you. I knew your gold digger step mother would definitely throw you out of your house after watching that video. And then you will have no other option left. You will come to me. I am the one who broke you and I will be the one to fix you," Sanskar said to himself. ♡♡♡

“Don’t.” He met my gaze. “I never break a promise. And I don’t have a plan on breaking it. My words are my power, Kennedy.”

Nolan's POV I didn’t answer right away. The word *promise* sat between us like something fragile, something holy—etched in the air with the faint scent of wet charcoal and the underlying bitterness of the coffee we'd abandoned on the counter earlier that morning. It wasn't just a word; it was a tether, one I'd yanked on too many times before, leaving frayed edges on both ends. Promises had always terrified me. Not because I didn’t mean them—but because I did. They were vows carved into bone, and breaking them meant splintering something irreplaceable.

"You don't know what a pinky promise is?" And he shook his head. I let out a giggle and smile as his features soften. "A pinky promise is one of the most sacred vows amongst two people, friend, lover whoever you never break a pinky promise no matter what." I explained. "I've seen kids do it. Isn't it only for kids?" he questioned and I blushed. "It is but..." I paused and butterflies danced in my lower abdomen. "Who said we can't do it?" I added and he let out a soft chuckle, "Cute."

"Will you still want me at dinosaur days?" "Tommy would riot if you didn't show." "That's not what I asked." I merge onto the parkway. Traffic's lighter now. Most people are already home for dinner. "You're always invited." I keep my eyes on the road. "Company or no company. Inheritance or no inheritance. None of that changes this." "Promise?" The word catches me off guard. When did we stop believing each other's promises? When did we start needing them to be explicit? "Promise," I say.

"You promise you won't leave?" "I promise. I'll never leave again. I promise."

But pr omises are meant to be failed, especially ones made to oneself.