Number Five Novels & Stories

“How much longer ’til I go out there?” “Four minutes,” said a woman’s voice from the door, and they all turned to look at Julie Weston, the owner of Open Skies. Her mint-green eyes took in the other women and she smiled radiantly. “Want me to take a picture of you guys all dolled up?” “Yes, please,” Mia said. “And take lots of them. We need to kill that never-ending four minutes somehow.”

Realizing that, I nodded and gave in. The anger on Xena’s face instantly disappeared. She grabbed my hand and sat me down, telling me to close my eyes. Riley and Lucas started singing the birthday song loudly. Xena turned off the lights, then came toward me while holding the cake with lit candles. Following their lead, I slowly opened my eyes. However, when I saw the number on the cake, my heart dropped. I was 28 this year, but the candle read 29. Lucas was the one who was 29 years old this year.

My tone and voice were sharp, reflecting all the feelings I had bottled up. He fell silent. His face tensed, as if he wasn’t ready to face my firmness. "I—I don’t know where to start. In these five years... I've realized something." I held back a bitter laugh. "In these five years, I’ve realized many things, one of which is that life without you has turned out to be easier than I thought." My words bit, and I knew they were painful for him. He bit his lip, as if holding back something.

Five years of marriage. Then I saw his post. “Happy fifth anniversary to my beautiful wife. Five years with you still feels like the beginning.”I smiled without even realizing it. Today is going to be a good day,I told myself. Damian and I had been married for five years. Five years of loving him, adjusting to him, building a life around him. He had been away on a business trip for months now, and I had been counting down the days to this one. He promised he would be available just this day and I believed him.

Harry growled. "This was meant to be a silent mission, but with this useless stunt you just pulled, the cops will soon be involved." Five said. "Bye! I'm leaving tonight. I will hide somewhere and then leave through my private jet at night." "Okay. Stay safe." Five replied. "Wait! Is Abel dead?" She asked. "No." Harry replied, angry at himself for failing to kill him. "Great. All this stunt was in vain!" Five said, and then ended the call.

Her voice echoed in his head, sharp and unforgiving: "You had five chances. Only five." And just like that, he realized—he'd burned through them all. Would she ever come back? Could she? The weight of it hit him like a brick wall, and he sank to the floor, crushed by regret. Snapping out of it, he fumbled for his phone. He had to call her, had to hear her voice. But as he scrolled through his contacts, her number wasn't there. He always saved it under a nickname—but now, it was gone. Panic clawed at him as he tried to recall it from memory. Nothing. The digits blurred in his mind. Instead, Renee's number popped up, clear and familiar, burned into his brain from years ago.

Unacceptable! What's up with the guy with number 5 on his jersey? Why is he chatting and smiling while kneeling in front of Talia? How dares he!? That kiss on Talia's hand lasted much longer than necessary!

and come alone. See you in five. Make it ten.

On our wedding day, my fiancée and brother died in a tragic crash, and the shock left my mother completely bedridden. Everyone blamed me, saying I brought misfortune and death to everyone around me. However, I didn't even have time to grieve. I worked myself to the bone, hauling concrete at construction sites by day and delivering food by night, just to afford my mother's medical bills. Then came the day I took a side job wearing a mascot suit for a grand opening event. One employee mentioned, "Our boss is super rich and handsome, and his wife is so sweet. Their family is so loving. They even rescue stray cats and dogs all the time!" I stayed quiet, only worried about whether I'd make it

𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒏! 𝑼𝑵𝑲𝑵𝑶𝑾𝑵 𝑵𝑼𝑴𝑩𝑬𝑹: 𝑹𝒖𝒍𝒆 𝒏𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒅� � 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏.