Promise I'll Be Alright Novels & Stories

Pinky promise. Byee.

The actual end. (I promise.)

“Keep my promise. I need something from you.” Catalina reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a small piece of paper. “Is this what you need?” I reached for the paper and unfolded it. Camila’s phone number was written on it. “Thank you. Does this mean we have your support?” “It means I want you both to be happy, but the repercussions of this union, of stopping Rei, may be more than our family can withstand.” Closing my fingers around the paper, I leaned down and brushed Ariadna’s soft dark peach-fuzz crown with my lips and smiled at Catalina. “I have to try.”

Ali " I promise. I promise . Just don't leave me. Please. I won't trust anyone now. " How can he think that? I can't live without him. He was ashamed but It wasn't his fault. I hugged him tightly and he was feeling better now.

“Oh, my little one. We're alone and broken. But we'll be fine. I promise...” Splash!!

'' I am sorry, I thought you were one of them,'' Ondo said '' Are you hurt anywhere?'' Ondo said '' Just my leg'' Amber ''I am sorry'' Ondo

“We are planning an attack but I promise to keep you safe from now henceforth” "And I know you aren't the type to back down on your words especially a promise you've made to me. Everything would be alright” I assured but never for once was I able to stop thinking about Frank

Of course, there have been times where I've coincidentally or accidentally broken a promise, but the key point is that it's never been an intentional betrayal. Making this particular promise, in the grand scheme of things, wasn't actually a big deal. "I promise I will never let any other man touch me. Happy?" I conceded, my words laced with resignation. His face lit up with a triumphant grin. "You forgot to add 'except Rominic Verlice'," he pointed out smugly. I rolled my eyes with exasperation and turned around, making my way back to my desk. "As for the favor," he continued, his voice following me, "will you go on a date with me?"

After the seventy-eighth time my husband's mistress sent me photos of the two of them together, I posted every one of them online. The girl cried until her face was ruined, screaming that she had no way to go on living. A second later, Nathan's call came through. "Take it down." I didn't. Ten minutes after that, every social account I owned was logged into from somewhere else in the country. Posts deleted. Accounts closed. The trending topic pulled. Start to finish, it took Nathan less than ten minutes. Three days later he came to me with divorce papers and said, gently, "It's only a trick to keep her quiet. Be good. Play along." I nodded and signed. After he left, I changed my pren

she replied gently, her voice carrying an understanding that needed no further words. There was no hint of objection in her demeanor; instead, there was quiet acceptance. Jessa knew better than to push or question Clarissa’s decision. She could sense the deep longing in her friend’s voice, the unmistakable ache for a connection that only a mother’s presence could soothe. With a slight smile meant to comfort, Jessa stepped back, allowing Clarissa the space to follow her heart. Though Jessa often carried the weight of being a guide and confidant, moments like this reminded her that sometimes, all one needed was a quiet affirmation—a simple “alright” that could speak volumes in its support and