Never Let You Go Novels & Stories

Tonight, for the first time, I looked at the screen and saw the island without him. It was still beautiful. My phone buzzed in my hand. Maya wanted to know if I was still coming early for the final walkthrough tomorrow. I read her message, then looked back at the ceremony lawn on the screen. The chairs, the arch, the water, the light — all of it was still there. Ethan was the only part missing, and maybe that was not the disaster I had once thought it would be. I told Maya I was coming and asked her to put me on the first flight.

"Holy crap! Other couples play a montage of their relationship at the wedding. These two sure don't know what boundaries mean!" As the lewd noises spread throughout the hall, Ian and Jessica both stared at the screen, their eyes wide. Jessica frantically tried to block the screen, while Ian just stood there for a beat. Then, he looked around the hall in a daze. Finally, just as the doors were about to close, he saw the face he was desperate to find. "Sophie!" Ignoring Jessica and his parents as they tried to hold him back, Ian bolted toward that retreating figure.

"Let go of my hand." . . . ……..

"Let's go," ======================================== Please remember to vote, comment and share! Kellisa Kelly

"Let's get this over with." ***

Levi's eyes seemed to flick a hint of sadness and disbelief. The two of us were silent again for two minutes, a subtle emotion lurking in the air. The alcohol was getting to me. I knew I couldn't keep dragging this out. I sighed. I really didn't want to make things too stiff or ugly. "I'm leaving." I thought this would be our last meeting, but I didn't expect Levi to keep pestering me. Levi remembered that I had shared a limited-edition album that I had been longing for on my social media account, and he especially went to England, using connections to get someone to get the singer's autograph for me.

I'm not going anywhere. Not ever again

Not now, not ever. And in a kiss that was wild and full of panic, all resistance, all questions, all shadows of a bleak future melted into one primitive need. On the cold executive desk, with the grand panorama of Herlington as a silent witness behind the giant window, Hazel surrendered to the current. Her legs opened—a silent invitation that Diego answered immediately. With practiced movements, he removed every barrier between them—buttons, zippers, silk—until Hazel’s warm, trembling skin was exposed to the cool air of the room.

Inside lay the ring—the Luna band Ethan gave her under cherry blossoms. She picked it up. Handed it to him. He hesitated. “Don’t.” “Take it.” “No.” “Ethan.” He swallowed, then slowly closed his hand around it. Grace sat straighter. “I want guardianship of Johnson’s memory. No statues, no songs, no twisted versions of what happened.” “I would never—” “You would,” she said. “You already have.” He closed his eyes. “What happens now?” “I leave.” He shook his head. “You can’t—”