Nothing Left To Lose Novel Novels & Stories

No negotiation, no reframing, no counter-proposal. I looked at him. “Okay?” I repeated. “Yes.” He held my gaze. “I’ll go.” I picked the book up and turned it over in my hands and looked at the cover and thought about the boy who had failed his business law exam and hidden it from everyone and the man sitting across from me who was slowly, haltingly, learning that hiding things didn’t make them smaller. It just made you carry them alone. “Good,” I said. And for the first time in a long time I meant something by it.

He picked it up and tried to press it into my hand again. "This one works really well. Even if it can't erase it completely, it can still…" I stepped aside and explained calmly, "Mr. Freeman, what you're doing could get me punished. Scars that are already ten years old can't be removed." His body stiffened. He clenched the box in his palm so hard that his whole body started to shake. Maggie finally realized what was going on. In my story, I had never mentioned their names. But one came back from overseas, started a business, and became a well-known entrepreneur.

His blue-green eyes are full of sorrow, and I smile as brightly as I can to show him that all will be well. "I love you." My energy disappears, and my eyes close. I let the blackness take hold of me, and it could have been a second or hours later, but my soul drifts away. The End.... For Now.

over and over. When she finally went still, he collapsed beside her lifeless body, a strange, peaceful smile settling on his face as he waited quietly for the police to arrive. I turned off my phone without a word. Then I looked at Reid, sitting beside me, calm and steady as always. We talked and laughed softly as the jet rose through the clouds. When it finally landed hours later, I stepped off the plane and inhaled the crisp foreign air. This was home now. I had no other.

“We have to.” He hums in agreement but doesn’t answer. His gaze is fixed on the shadowy tree line, and even the sunlight seems dimmer today. “I used to think the worst thing that could happen to me was losing control,” he says after a long pause. “But it turns out the worst thing is realising I’ve finally got something to lose.” My chest tightens. “You mean someone.” He doesn’t deny it.

“I saw him.” “And?” And he looked expensive. Successful. Like the man he always wanted to be. And he looked at me like I was the only thing in that room. And I wanted to run to him and scream at him in equal measure. And I’m terrified because my body still knows his and my heart still breaks when I think about how he left. “And I was professional,” I said instead. “Did my pitch. Got the contract. Left.” “Ari.” “I’m fine.” “Bullshit.”

After five years of marriage, Gabrielle Jamison stumbles upon her husband, Morgan Quilton, with his mistress. He's even brought their son, Casper Quilton, with him. Casper pretends not to know her, and Morgan doesn't even bother to hide his contempt. Gabrielle looks around at the room full of impeccably dressed guests. She twists the hem of her wrinkled shirt, then looks at her own haggard reflection in the mirror. The brilliant golden girl she used to be is gone without a trace. In that instant, she loses all hope in Morgan and Casper. So, when Morgan tells her he wants a divorce, she quietly says yes. From then on, every outrageous demand from his side of the family gets a hard no. Si

He turns around at the same moment. And I look at him across two feet of space in this small loud sticky-floored bar in the town I hate, and I think about my mother's empty chair and Tristan's smiling eyes on national television and seven strangers in ring-light videos and every project on hold and my whole life sitting in a box on the floor ... and I think: I have nothing left to lose tonight. Not a single thing. "Sleep with me,"

Damien was on the couch reading. "Done," she said. He looked up. "The neighbor," he said. "What you tend, you keep. What you leave, you lose twice." She sat beside him. "That's the chapter's last line." He was quiet for a moment. "Thomas lost twice," he said. "The house and the love for it." She paused. "In that order." "And the protagonist." "Is learning the difference between leaving and loss." She pulled her legs up. "They're not the same thing."

His cane tapped softly against the marble. He stopped only a few feet away, his eyes searched my face, then my hands, then my feet, "What is this called?" My lips felt dry, "The Four Lives I Never Chose." He waited. I looked across the gardens, "The first girl grows up afraid of her own home. The second mistakes a cage for love," I swallowed, "The third finally finds someone worth loving... and never gets to keep him. And the last girl loses the only person who ever made her feel safe."