Promises And Pomegranates Novels & Stories

Here, pomegranates are piled like jewels in open crates, spices cascade in vibrant mountains, and every merchant acts like you’re a long-lost cousin that is invited for dinner. Rami grins at my shock, effortlessly switching to Jordanian dielect as he haggles over figs. I watch, mesmerized, as he argues with a wrinkled old man about apricots, not with the cold precision of boardroom negotiations, but with laughter and playful insults. When he finally gets the price lowered, the shopkeeper claps him on the back like they’re old friends. "You’re terrifying," I whisper as we walk away, our bags heavy with fruit Farah insisted we needed.

"Even if you didn't know she's pregnant, you still shouldn't have added so much saffron into the pomegranate juice!" By then, Phoebe had fleshed out her answer in her mind. She shook her head and hands innocently. "You have to let me explain, Lucas. I admit I did add some saffron into the juice, but I didn't know putting too much would be dangerous!

Patty answered before she called on everyone to see to their post and that their vacation was over. Once everyone was gone to do their task, she looked at Marcus and she refused to process the information that he would leave in the afternoon. “Hey, can you go with me to the orchard?” She asked him to join her in harvesting fruits that she would use to make fresh juices. Her father’s orchard has grapes, oranges, pomelo, and lemon. “What are we going to do in the orchard?” Marcus inquired when he sensed that something was up on her sleeve and she couldn’t look him in the eyes.

The actual end. (I promise.)

It was a promise. *_*

He looked up, a glimmer of hope reigniting in his eyes. "You can pay on a monthly basis. I'll give you a 30-day payment term." That glimmer died, replaced by an unreadable expression. "12,000 dollars? That's what you charge your family?" "Family, huh?" I reiterated, savoring the words. "Uncle Liam, do you know what that word means in my book? In my book, treating someone like family means paying them on time, not ripping them off, and not weaponizing blood ties to haggle on prices. I'm sure you know the state of your factory better than I do, Uncle Liam.

Images appeared—snippets of Nathan’s early missions, encrypted communications, his reports… all addressed to the Board. And at the top of every file was a name she hadn’t seen before: Project Prometheus. She gasped. “Nathan… you knew?” The void snapped away. Reality returned with a blast of static. She stumbled back onto the rooftop, gasping for air. Nathan caught her, eyes wide. “Alina—what happened?” Her eyes filled with tears. “You lied to me.” Nathan froze. “What are you talking about?” “Project Prometheus,” she whispered, holding up the fragments. “You were never sent to destroy the Foundation. You were sent to take it over!”

And somehow, that promise doesn’t scare me. The world should fear Damian Bernardi. But me? I never have. Because I know, I’m the only thing he will never destroy. End of Unspoken Promises…. Please let me know what you think….. Book Two - Unspoken Truths - Coming Soon

Because Marie had to leave at that time, and in order to conclude their talk and her beautiful bond with Jean, Marie requested, “Jean, promise me that when we both grow up and get a job, we will meet each other. Promise me that you will stay in touch with me; you have my email and my phone number as well. Promise me that you will keep our friendship a secret, and you will not let any other girl become your best friend.” With a very heavy voice and a little positivity in her mind with the hope of meeting her first love again in life after a couple of years, Jean replied, “Pinky Promise!”

I printed the note and put it on the board in the kitchen where we pin the more practical things — invoices, someone’s recipe for chutney, a note that says teal ribbons are in the cupboard. Marcus and I keep promising each other small revolutions. We promise to argue and to apologize. We promise to make terrible pancakes and laugh and to be honest when the ledger whispers a dangerous solution. We promise to teach the twins how to shout when they need to and to bake when they want to soothe. We promise to keep the door open.