Our Missing Hearts Novels & Stories

Something that couldn't be undone by contracts or rules or the careful distance they'd tried to maintain. This was real. And for the first time in a very long time, Mira wasn't afraid. --- Later—much later—they lay tangled together in the ruined sheets, the storm still raging outside, the broken mirror still glittering on the floor. Kieran traced lazy patterns on her bare hip, his chest warm against her back. She could feel his heartbeat, steady and strong, a rhythm she wanted to memorize. "The contract," she said quietly. "The contract is void." She turned her head to look at him. "What?"

I had time to think: At least I'll see him. Then impact. Then nothing. --- Eleven forty-two. The numbers glowed red on the nightstand clock. I stared at them, my heart hammering against my ribs, my body drenched in sweat. The sheets twisted around my legs like restraints. Eleven forty-two. I knew that number. I'd watched it burn itself into my memory. Time of death:— My hand flew to my chest. Whole. Unbroken. I could feel my heartbeat, fast and frantic, but there—there, pounding against my palm.

I cried until there was nothing left, until all I could do was stare at the screen, at that tiny heartbeat flickering like hope itself. A girl. His daughter. Our daughter. That night, after I tucked Mom into bed and returned to my room, I sat by the window, watching the rain fall. The air smelled like earth and memories. My hand rested on my belly as I whispered softly, “He would’ve loved you so much, baby girl.” A soft kick answered me. I smiled through the tears. “I know. I miss him too.” I didn’t know where he was, what he was doing, or if he even thought of me anymore. But deep down, in the quiet corners of my heart, I felt that he did. Because love like ours didn’t just disappear. It li

It’s hard to move on, especially when the only child I had was taken from me. I miss her so much, and I constantly feel like something is missing. Her absence is taking a toll on us, but we are forcing ourselves to stay strong. I can’t help but feel pity for Remus because of his frequent nightmares.

After that, no preschool would accept him. Oscar was furious and heartbroken, but there was nothing he could do as no one would help them. In the end, he dragged Neville with him to pick through trash. The next time I saw them, it was on a street lined with food stalls. Both Oscar and Neville were filthy and disheveled, digging through bins one by one. Meanwhile, I was sitting in my luxury car, on my way to pick up Hannah's favorite—a custom-made Queen's Cake.

Without that, everything felt incomplete, like reaching for something just out of grasp. I picked up my phone and tried again, pressing it tightly to my ear as I dialed Nic’s number. The familiar ring echoed through the silence, only to end the same way—unanswered. My heart sank with each failed call. I whispered to myself to stay calm, but tears stung my eyes. I missed him fiercely—his touch, his embrace, the way he made me feel untouchable. Without him, the bed was too big, too cold, and each passing moment made the ache sharper. I held the phone to my chest, closing my eyes, wishing it were him instead.

Inside was a single sheet of matte black paper, the message printed in faint grey type, like a whisper in ink: You’re not the only one watching. You’ve got forty-eight hours before someone decides your past isn’t worth hiding. No signature. No mark. But the phrasing… sharp, precise. It reminded her of the way Leo Knight spoke—only this was colder, less amused. Her mind moved fast—cross-referencing jobs, old contacts, burned clients—but there were too many possibilities. She turned the page over, and a smaller slip of paper fell out. A photograph. Her chest tightened.

LORRAINE: I couldn't help myself, I couldn't pretend, I missed kissing him, I missed the way he made me feel seen, like the walls I have built for years meant nothing to him, like he had already lived inside them. Hurriedly I dropped everything in my hand and wrapped my hands around my neck pulling him close to me, until there was no space between us. His hands, firm, tight, on my waist, his tongue in mine, mine in his…a moan escapes from my throat even without realizing it. I didn't even realize when he carried me, placing me on a table, I could feel his hardness and I was already soaked, my heart was going crazy, we were intertwined with our lips, our hearts beating in sync, movements alik

She stared into his brown eyes. Unrequited love is the worst. It never quenches your thirst. When you love someone the most, but they treat you like a ghost. You don't exist to them, even if they're your gem. It hurts your heart and tears you apart. Your soul gives a desperate plea, for them to just see, that you're right in front of their eyes. Only once it's too late, they realize. It's like a stab to the chest, leaving you in a state of unrest.

I'm so screwed how do I tell him I forgot I had something like that in my possession and to think he came all the way here to get it. "It's fine if you don't have it yet, but make sure to get it ready by tomorrow. It's my favorite" He ends and walks away. I Puff in relief. How did he let me off the hook so easily? He turns around again and walks in my direction. My heart is almost bursting out of my chest. He pins me to the wall as soon as he gets to where I am standing and draws his face closer to mine, staring deeply at my eyes and I close my eyes trembling. What is he thinking?