One Day In December Kindle Novels & Stories

***** Edith The dream The winter was severe in Newyork. It was the month of December raining heavily accompanied by thunders. The sky was black surrounded by dark clouds in the night. I was in Allesandro's house sitting in front of the bonfire rubbing my hands to one another to generate some heat. "Edith, here is your hot chocolate." Allesandro hands me my mug and squats beside me sipping his own drink.

Not empty. There was a man already in the room, I could make out the shape of him sitting on the edge of the bed, and I assumed in that first moment, in the dark, that this was Brynn's idea of a gift, that she had arranged something. And I was tired and hollow and it was New Year's Eve and Cole was somewhere married to my cousin on my birthday and I had spent five days falling apart, so I made a decision. One night. Just this. Just something that was mine and nobody else's and meant nothing and would be forgotten by morning.

On New Year’s Eve, Kian Newman never came home. Instead, he had someone deliver a container of frozen ravioli and sent me a single message: "Stay safe this year." I had barely locked the screen when a photo popped up in the company group chat. Isabel Wilkinson, Kian's assistant, had posted it. It was a lavish holiday dinner spread across the table, every dish clearly homemade. The caption read: "Someone spent all day cooking so I could have a taste of home. Love you."

By 4:00 PM, the blinding hot anger that had carried me away from the plaza of the Kane Empire had settled into the center of my chest. The tears had dried on my cheeks, leaving tight, itchy tracks across my skin that I cleaned away with the sleeve of my oversized knit sweater. I didn't look in the mirror this time. I already knew what was there: a girl who had sold her dignity for a single night, now forced to pay the price in blood, sweat, and secrecy.

She watched Nathaniel as he lowered himself into the chair next to her, his presence suddenly filling the quiet space. Her throat flushed with heat as the faint scent of his cologne lingered around her, her pulse quickening. Avery pushed the stack of files toward him as he grabbed them deftly, his eyes scanning each page with unwavering concentration. While waiting, Avery took in the room once more. At the far end was a carved area dedicated to bookshelves, filled with different books. As her eyes roamed around, she felt her jaw clench due to the impact of the cold. Her clothes were completely soaked, and spending more minutes in them would definitely land her on a hospital bed.

I finished all the food. I'm so confused with my feelings. I always does! I'm always having a hard time articulating my own emotions and own thoughts. Why am I like this? I'm frustrated with myself! Honestly! After I drank all the water on the glass, I put the tray on my night stand. I stood and walk out to my balcony. Snowing breeze of air, and tiny bits of snow flakes made me shiver. I noticed as I look down, the road is flooded with snows. The snow is getting thicker as the day of 25th of December is getting nearer and nearer. Just about one week and Christmas will befall.

ZARA’S POINT OF VIEW I got down from the plane, it’s sunny now, not scorching hot though, just the right temperature like the sky decided to finally smile after the long period of snows. It is January now, December and the holidays is over. December, Christmas was really nice, I spent it with my sister, we watched cheesy Christmas movies while drinking hot cocoa and eating cookies. It was the best time in a long long time, i am getting a little bit homesick just thinking about it.

"But not yet." A Spark of Normalcy The next morning, I suggested something unusual—a day off. "You’re joking, right?" Damien asked, lifting an eyebrow. "Nope," I said firmly. "We’ve earned it. We’ve all earned it. One day won’t alter the world, but it might remind us what we’re fighting for." To my astonishment, he concurred. The First Steps Forward We spent the day outside, away from consoles and weapons. For a few hours, the weight of the past seemed to lift.

December 3rd I wake up with James’s arm around my waist and his breath warm on my neck. Facing the windows, I immediately notice the snow falling outside. I smile, feeling the festive joy bubble inside me. Carefully, I move his arm off my waist and slip out from under the covers, instantly shivering. Trying not to make a sound, I grab one of his hoodies for warmth and quietly leave the room, shutting the door behind me. I yawn as I head downstairs to the kitchen, silently praying I don’t trip on the stairs—not this morning, at least.

The rooftop lights have dimmed without being asked. Somewhere in the walls a soft voice is humming the lullaby I sang to children who may only exist in code. I am not afraid. Somewhere north of nowhere, a valley is still green. Somewhere a man with storm-grey eyes still says yes a thousand times every morning. Pomegranate. See you in December. The diary ends. The last page is pressed with the empty rind, stained the exact colour of forgiveness. (End of interludes)