She Would Never Know Ending Novels & Stories

I was gone. "Catherine… Cathy… Sweetie… where are you? Please, come out! Cathy, I remember now… Please, just come out!" He screamed at the empty space, but no one answered. He fumbled with his phone, calling me over and over. Still, no response. It was then he realized, in a gut-wrenching moment of despair, that aside from my love for sculpture, he knew nothing about me. His knowledge of his own wife was painfully barren. The phone rang again. This time, it was Hannah. "Theo… where are you? It hurts so much… Please come back… Our baby…"

And she realized— She wasn’t confused anymore. She was falling. Hard. She was falling for the wrong man, and she didn't know the end of this either.

And suddenly und‌erstood somet⁠hing. People‌ talk abo‌ut‌ endings like doors closing. But may‍be endi‍ngs were just rooms changing. Noah wa⁠sn’t g‌one. ‍ He wa‍sn’t l‍eaving home. He was carrying it.‍ She looked arou‍nd the‍ qu⁠i‍et house. Then smiled. Because maybe this wasn’t the e⁠nd‍ of⁠ somethi‌ng.

After saying all that, she turned and walked out without hesitation. The door slammed shut behind her. I stared at the ceiling as tears slid down my face. The mother who raised me had died a horrific death. The person responsible was still warning me not to cause trouble. I closed my eyes and took a slow breath. When I opened them again, nothing remained except overwhelming hatred. I reached for the pendant hanging around my neck. I pressed a tiny hidden button on the back. After five years of marriage, even Suzanna never knew it was an emergency communicator.

“Yes. I think this might be the last time.” My throat goes dry. “No. Don’t say that.” “Keith—” “Don’t.” My hands tighten on her waist. “Don’t tell me this is the end. I can’t—” She looks up at me, tears glittering at the corners of her eyes. “Maybe endings aren’t always bad. Maybe it means something new is coming.” “Something new?” I whisper. “Without you?” She cups my face with both hands. “Maybe not without me. Just… different.”

They won’t see me cry in here again. “Oh, look at your face and your body. It’s such a pity because you have really nice body. I specifically told them not to touch your face because I can’t bare to see such a beautiful work of art get torn up and ruined. It’s going to spoil the entire thing. Your body on the other hand isn’t all that special so we could do what we wanted with it and we did. Isn’t it better now? The wounds will heal and fade into a delightful shade of black. I can’t wait to see you looking like a zebra. It would be such a delight”. The way she’s talking seems like she’s forgotten that she promised to kill me no matter what. She must have read my mind again because she said “

She stared at the door blankly as those thoughts clouded her mind. Wow! She thought, Is this how it was? Was this how it felt to know your ending? She couldn't help but ask herself. She always thought that her end would be great and that she would have accomplished everything she needed to. She thought her end was with that bastard who betrayed her. She always imagined the both of them growing old together and watching their great-grandkids play on a beach while they held their hands and looked at each other lovingly. Fantasy is really a bitch. She thought as she chuckled bitterly.

“Then it’s where we will be for the time being.” The End Knowing many of you're not familiar with this, there will be more after this. This is not the end, but the end!

END. Couldn't think of a perfect way to end this, anyway __ all in all, we have come to the end of our story , if you haven't said anything since we started , come on, this is your chance, please say something, anything, whatever , just anything you think about it... thanks for reading, don't forget to vote and thanks in advance for your feedback❤

The eighth time I catch Philip Mumford cheating on me, he pours a bottle of concentrated disinfectant over his groin. "Happy now?" Amid the wreckage, his face is deathly pale as he looks at me like I'm the one who has lost my mind. It's the first time he's ever backed down. I stand frozen, clutching a piece of broken porcelain, suddenly feeling completely lost. During our worst fight, I strap dynamite to myself and his mistress, forcing him to choose between us. In response, he has himself and my parents tied to five semitrucks chained together, then smiles and asks if I still want him to choose. That's how we spent ten years torturing each other, neither of us willing to give in, bac