Read To Self Novels & Stories

Instead I send back a single message. Alex- See you tonight. "

I whisper my own name. I read the prenup. Page by page. Line by line. The words are small, dense. I read slowly, carefully. I read each condition, each clause, each provision. I read the fine print. I read the margins. I read the footnotes. I read the appendices. I read everything.

Just check in the next part🥰🥰🥰. Thank you for reading 🤗🤗🤗.

The first text read. The second text came a second later. "Yeah I remember, what about that?"

’ I read it to myself and I immediately knew who it was, locking my phone and placing it on my lap, I turned to look out the window. “Son of a bitch.”

I read the message three times. Not because I did not understand it on the first pass. I understood it perfectly on the first pass. I read it three times because some part of me was convinced that if I kept looking at it, the words would rearrange themselves into something less catastrophic. Nine words. Nine words from a number I had not saved but had never been able to bring myself to delete, and they sat on that screen like a lit match held over something that had been soaked in gasoline for years. I'm coming back home for what belongs to me, dear sister.

“I have known it was ready since this morning. I have been revising it anyway because tomorrow is enormous and I do not know what to do with the feeling of something being enormous except to keep working.” “I know,” he said. “The last sentence,” she said. “The one I wrote two weeks ago. I have been looking at it all day and I cannot decide if it is too much or exactly right.” He looked at her. “Read it to me,” he said. “Out loud. The way you will say it tomorrow.” She looked at the address. She found the sentence. She read it aloud. Her voice, reading it, was different from the voice she used for conversation. It had the quality she brought to things that required her whole self. Not louder.

he adds. Can I really read these out loud?

Composed. He was reading.

"Two hours is more than sufficient." "Goodnight, Mrs. Pelham," I say. “Good night, Alpha.” She leaves me to eat, which I do while working. I read the same paragraph of the Strathfield report four times and get different information out of it each time, which is not how my brain usually operates, and I close the file and open it again and read the paragraph a fifth time and get the same result. ‘You could just admit it,’ my wolf huffs. "Admit what?"