Ninety Nine Favor Coupons Then I Was Gone Novels & Stories

At the very end, James placed my hand into Elijah’s. “Kid, she’s yours now. “But remember this. “She’ll always be the daughter of ninety-nine men.” As we exchanged rings, a thunderous roar echoed across the sky. Ninety-nine helicopters formed four giant words overhead. [Congratulations, Newlyweds.] When I was thirty-two, I gave birth to twins—a boy and a girl. Outside the delivery room, ninety-nine white-haired old men packed the entire hallway. The head nurse almost thought a mafia war was about to break out inside the hospital.

The man hung his head low, his fingers buried deep in his hair, carefully considering where I might have gone. As his eyes wandered, they suddenly fell upon the trash can nearby. Those pink fragments looked so familiar that the moment he saw them, he felt like he couldn't breathe. He slowly crouched down, not caring that the cream stains would dirty his sleeves. He picked up the pieces from the trash can bit by bit. Then, he carefully assembled them back together. There were exactly 99 reconciliation vouchers. He remembered five years ago, when he had looked at those vouchers and sincerely promised me, "Cecilia, don't worry. I'll never give you a reason to use them."

No roses in the windows, just posters for lotto draws and energy drinks. I ducked inside, the bell jangling. If Portia was abandoning me for her young stud, I’d need supplies for the long, lonely drive back. I grabbed a basket and stalked the aisles, grabbing things at random. A multipack of crisps. Bottled water. Chocolate bars. Tissues. I wasn’t really looking, just filling the void with consumer goods. A lot of the items had bright yellow stickers: ‘COUPLE’S DISCOUNT – BUY ONE GET ONE HALF PRICE’.

"Don't be silly. Back then, I proposed to you 99 times before you agreed to marry me. If we're going to divorce, we'll wait until we reach the 99th agreement. Otherwise, I'd be taking too big a loss." I froze. I stared at the man in front of me as if he were some kind of monster. Five years ago, when Gary proposed to me, I had just been accepted into an overseas study program. To make me stay, he proposed 99 times. On the 100th time, I finally gave in. His persistence moved me so much that I gave up the opportunity I had worked so hard for. I stayed and became the woman everyone envied in Starborough. Until the moment he said he would be "taking a loss," I had believed those proposals were p

"I am returning to Zurich tomorrow." He replied quickly. "Not staying a few more days?" "No. Things here are finished." I deleted Enzo's number. I deleted Rosalina's. I deleted Alberto's. My contact list was empty. A month later, I was sitting in my office in Zurich when an email arrived from Rosalina. It was long. I did not open it. I deleted it. Another came the next day. From Alberto. I deleted that one too. The day after that, Enzo wrote.

After Melody cheated and returned to the family, I started posting online every day. [Is cheating addictive?] [Just how thrilling is cheating, really?] [When a woman cheats, does she feel worse for her kids or her lover?] … I tagged her school in every post, making sure each one appeared right in front of her students, her colleagues, and even her lover. Everyone told me to stop making such an ugly scene and be the bigger person. Only Melody stood up for me. "I'm the one who did something wrong. It's only fair to let Tony vent a little." That lasted until my 99th post. Then Melody stormed in as if she'd lost her mind and smashed my computer. "Anthony, are you ever going to stop? I alr

The 99th time I asked my boyfriend, Nathan Cole, to dinner, he turned me down and snapped, "Is eating the only thing you ever think about?" We'd been together for two years, yet every time I wanted to have dinner with him, I had to check his schedule first. He said work kept him busy and he didn't like last-minute invitations. So I learned to ask a week ahead and keep track of every opening in his schedule. One day, while I was out shopping, I passed a new Italian restaurant and texted him. His reply came at once. "How many times have I told you? Stop bothering me with little things like this!" I put my phone away and went in by myself. But when I went to pay, I saw him in the private dining

On the day I'm supposed to try on my wedding dress, Don Aldo Vitale gets the time wrong again. By the time he finally gets to the bridal boutique, I have already chosen my dress. Just like always, Aldo apologizes without thinking. "I've been really busy lately. I hope you understand." But over the past few years, Aldo's taken his childhood sweetheart and assistant, Isabella Berardi, to more than 100 cities for business. He's never forgotten a single flight, meeting, or business dinner. In contrast, Aldo's always forgetting things when it comes to me. I calmly hand the wedding dress back to the sales associate. "It's fine. My friend already helped me pick out a dress. No point in comin

It was the middle of the night and all I wanted was bread pudding and she was annoying the hell out of me. Five. I grab the woman’s elbow and grab the coupon from her. Looking down, I could tell it was a coupon from an old newspaper. It had dust covering it and I knew that this woman probably could tell that it wouldn’t work. It’s too bad that she decided to pay at Daniel’s counter because he would rather cut off his own arm instead of having money missing from his cash register.

With that, Laura stepped out of the cab and watched until it disappeared from sight. She took a deep breath, scanning the neighborhood. Her gaze landed on a faded signpost across the complex: "Fayfall Tarot Cafe Store." Laura's eyes lit up as she rummaged through her bag for a coupon. She compared the name on the coupon with the signpost. "It exists!" Laura chuckled, memories flooding back. She had received the coupon as a change from a coffee seller. Initially, she thought it was a scam since the cafe wasn't online. But something made her keep the coupon.