Seven Days To Lose Me Novels & Stories

I thought about Bree, everyone thought she was so perfect, but I knew the truth, she was not good at all and she hated me for knowing, she hated me for seeing through her bullshit. I leaned back on my bed, hands clutching the sheets, heart pounding in my chest. I wiped my eyes again, this time more firmly, there was no use crying over spilt milk. Seven days. I could survive seven days. Outside, I could hear faint murmurs. They were still talking about me, I just knew it. I clenched my jaw. Let them talk. Let them believe what they wanted. In seven days, none of that would matter. I would be gone.

The first stretch was the hardest. After that, things slowly settled. I hired a nanny to help care for my daughter and found a job for myself. It took about a month to transform from someone who avoided people into someone who could blend into a crowd. In that single month, I made more friends than I had in years. Before that, my entire life revolved around Gwyneth. For seven years, I barely socialized. I had almost no friends. I had devoted all my time and energy to one person.

My husband, Ethan Glenn, loves making me jealous. He says every time I get jealous over his childhood friend, Samantha Locke, it proves how much I love him. So every anniversary, he lets Samantha play "Mrs. Glenn" for a few days while he and our friends bet on how long I'll last before I snap. The first year, Samantha took a photo in my nightgown, curled up in Ethan's arms. I was furious and snatched it back. Ethan just kissed me and laughed, saying he knew I could never leave him. The second year, he gave Samantha our bedroom and sent me to the guest room. He only let me back in after he saw me tearing up outside. Then he told me she was staying for just one night. Last year, Ethan br

I stood in the doorway for a moment longer, coffee in hand, the rejection ache still there but quieter now. Then I followed him. Seven days. That was all he promised me. Seven days to decide if I wanted to keep running… Or if I was finally ready to fight.

Jeremy had locked me in a room to reflect, and he did not let me out for a long while. I had to endure the pain from my illness. Seven years ago, he braced the heavy rain and found me. My family had just gone bankrupt and I was ill. Back then, he was my savior who brought me hope. However, that hope eventually turned to poison. My phone buzzed. It was a text message from Bailey. [Are you interested in a bet against me?] After reading her proposed bet, I glanced at Jeremy, who had walked away. [Sure.]

All of Sicily knew that the mafia boss Ethan Moretti loved me more than his own life. Yet on the day of our seventh scheduled marriage registration, Ethan stood me up again. He sent a message explaining it was an urgent business trip. I had already been waiting for him at City Hall for five hours. Just as I was about to leave, I received a video from his childhood sweetheart, Bianca. On the other side of the world, under a sky full of falling meteors, he took off his own coat and draped it over Bianca’s shoulders, then carefully tightened her collar: “Happy birthday. This is my gift to you.” In the video, his assistant hesitated before reminding him: “Don, today is the day you and Mi

In the seventh year of holding down the Chicago arms trade for Matteo, he finally came back from the Mediterranean. The night the Five Families threw him his coronation ball, I put on my custom gown. I was ready to see the man I had waited seven years for. Right before my entrance, my cousin Vivienne barged into the dressing room. She did our books, and she snatched the head-table nameplate off my table. She looked at me with cold pity. "Camilla, don't embarrass yourself. The seat for the Don's wife was never meant for you." She slammed a yellowed betting slip from a Vegas underground bookmaker onto the table. The wager was a hundred grand. The name on the ticket was Matteo. The betting line

My wife, Camille Ashford, loved watching me get jealous. She said that every time I objected to another man getting too close to her, I proved how deeply I loved her. That was why she turned our wedding anniversary into the same game every year. Her closest male friend, Julian Cross, would take my place for several days, while their friends placed bets on how long I would tolerate it. The first year, Julian wore one of my tailored suits and posed for photographs beside Camille. I made him take it off in front of everyone. Camille followed me into the hall, kissed me, and smiled because my anger proved that I could not bear to lose her. The second year, she gave Julian our bedroom and sent me

“Don’t speak,” said the man in the dark. “Not one word. If you speak, I’ll lose you.” I couldn’t have spoken if I’d tried. Serena Lim is twenty-two, wolfless, and invisible in the house where her golden sister is the star. When Natalie begs her to stand in her place for one hour of the sacred Veil Night, Serena says yes, because nobody has ever asked her for anything before. In the dark, the Alpha of Mandai Ridge walks the line, stops in front of number seven, and says, There you are. He thinks he has found the Luna the elders promised him. He has actually found the girl who has loved him for eleven years, and who is not allowed to speak. By dawn the veil is off, the pack is howling,

I'm born with the ability to see how much time remains in every relationship between two people. Throughout my 13 years of marriage to my wife, Francine Spence, the rare word "Forever" glows above both our heads. But on the eve of our son Oscar Baxter's birthday, I stumble upon a conversation between Francine and her client, Dale Stratton. In it, I discover that she has been letting Dale use Oscar as a substitute for his deceased son, Zachary Stratton, to ease his grief. In an instant, the golden word "Forever" vanishes, and in its place is a glaring crimson number—7 Days.