No Longer A Stand In Novels & Stories

𝗝𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗿𝗼𝘄𝗱. 𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝘄, 𝘀𝘂𝗱𝗱𝗲𝗻𝗹𝘆, 𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗲𝗹𝘀𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺.

The familiarity that felt like home and danger at the same time. “Ethan,” she replied, steady on the outside, unraveling within. They did not hug. They did not smile. They stood inches apart like strangers bound by history too painful to touch. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “Conference,” he answered. “You?” She nodded. “Same.” A pause. “I didn’t know you still came to Chicago,” he said. “I didn’t know you still existed,” she replied before she could stop herself. The words were sharp, but he deserved them. He only nodded, jaw tightening.

One day, CEO Cecilia Bennett brings her "one true love", Elliot Lawson, home. I'm in the kitchen, spatula in hand, wondering if I need to make a few extra dishes for her guest. But before I can ask, Elliot points at me, looking utterly betrayed. "I knew it! Everything those romance novels said was true! The second I left the country, you found yourself a replacement and brought him home!" What? A replacement? That's news to me. No one has ever told me I was supposed to be one.

The mirror had been broken, and only one twin remained. Vivian sank onto the small wooden bench by the window, her strength entirely spent. She looked out at the fog, her fingers tracing the seam of her trousers. "It's done then. I am Valerie now. Permanently." "No," Alexander’s voice rose from the center of the room, low, gravelly, and charged with that sudden, unintended wave of raw intensity that always surfaced when they were alone. Vivian looked up. He was standing over her, his hands pocketed, his grey eyes burning with a dark, suffocating fire as he looked down at her bare face.

It was gone so fast that I thought I might have imagined it. When the hour ended, he closed the folder and leaned back. “Tomorrow. Same time. Don’t be late again.” I stood up, legs slightly shaky. As I reached the door, his voice stopped me. “And Miss Finland?” I turned. “you shouldn't be bothered about what Ethan did to you. he's not worth you"

He was still looking and she was still there to be found and she held that present tense with both hands because there were two matches left and then there would be no stand and no looking and she was not going to stop being there for any of what remained. The second-to-last she brought Priya. She had not asked Priya before. The south stand had been hers alone, the private act, the seat she had calibrated over all the months of showing up, and she had kept it private because it had always felt like

Pain filled Mother’s eyes. I was stunned. So the cold distance we both understood without words—in their eyes, it was something that needed to be questioned? Did six years without Elara make everyone forget that I had only ever been a replacement? A spare part brought in to fill the gap?

I leaned into his shoulder, listened to the steady thud of his heartbeat, and closed my eyes. In the dream I wasn't the girl killing herself in a basement studio anymore. I was dressed in silk, standing on the biggest stage in the world, applauded by everyone who mattered. And the man beside me, he wasn't going anywhere.

As I grew up, I developed a fuller figure than other girls my age. Countless teenage boys dreamed about me. In real life, they admired me. In their dreams, they had me. The moment I was old enough to marry, my father received a flood of marriage proposals from other families. My father turned them all down. Instead, he left me in the care of his most trusted advisor, Sebastian Moretti. "He became the Silvestri family's advisor at 25. For ten years, he's handled everything for us without letting me down. He's watched you grow up, too. You've only just turned 18. He's the one I trust to keep you in line." Yet the very first night Dad left on business, Sebastian took me on one wild ride after

Erin’s POV Stifling a yawn, I rolled my eyes at the endless tumble of jargons emanating from the speaker’s mouth, before steering my head to Trent. He was sitting beside me. He looked extremely hot, focusing on whatever nerdy engineering bullshit the man was spewing. My phone vibrated then, and I panned my attention to it. Orla: How is the summit going? Were you able to sit with Trent? Me: Horrible doesn’t even begin to explain how much of a snooze fest the event is. As I’m typing this, I am currently sitting next to him, which is the only good thing about this event.