Since We Last Spoke Book Novels & Stories

“I was. And then it did.” The words hung in the air, heavy with everything we weren’t saying. --- We talked for a while about the surface things. How was work? Fine. How was writing? Good. Did I still run in the mornings? Sometimes. Did he still drink his coffee black? Always. It was strange, how easy it was. How the years of silence melted away, replaced by the rhythm of two people who had once known each other better than anyone. “I heard about your book,” he said. “Congratulations. That’s huge.”

“I thought I already told you over the phone yesterday? Well It was nice . We went out to eat, talked about life, school, ambitions… you know, the usual.”

I closed the file on my table and looked up, “By the way, what are you here for?” The last time Noah and I spoke was at the date last week. That was before the accident, though from what I saw on my phone, he had been trying to reach out to me since nights back, so he must have misplaced his phone a couple of days after the date. He was just about to answer my question, but I interrupted him, “Oh, and before I forget. Did your mom get convinced enough by the date? Or should I expect you to need my help with another fake dinner date?” I raised a brow at him.

Our conversations almost always happened on the phone. I picked up my phone and dialed her number just as she had practically ordered me to. "You haven't turned in the last chapters of book three yet." Her voice almost echoed in the room the instant she picked up the phone. If I had a problem building relationships with people them Natalie definitely had a problem maintaining the ones she already built.

Unspoken Desires - Chapter 18 Gabriella It was nearly two in the morning by the time we wrapped the plan with Damian and Matteo. Starting tomorrow, everything was going to get real. No more talking, no more theory. We had one shot to get it right, and we all needed to be sharp. I was heading back up to the room Lessia and I were sharing when I heard my phone ringing in the distance. Still where I’d left it on the dresser. I hadn’t looked at it all day.

I had enough, walking into the dining room, and the both of them plastered smiles on their faces, like the conversation that I just heard them having was all in my head. “Are the both of you okay?” I asked, and they both nodded. “I guess we were just catching up on things.” Lila said in a tone that made her almost unrecognizable. “After all, the last time we spoke was five to six years ago. We have a enough talking to do.” “That's nice, I guess,” I said, trying to sound as nonchalant as I could. Lila finally leaned forward as she took in a spoon of the food that she had barely touched when we got to my mom's house.

My whole world was here, vulnerable and strong at the same time. Then, the cell phone vibrated on the nightstand. I looked at the screen: David. It had been exactly ten years since we last spoke. Not a message, not a sign. I got up slowly, leaving the bed without making a sound, and answered in the hallway, the door ajar. “David,” I whispered.

"Armani, you? Since when do you love books?" I give him a tight smile. "You might be surprised, Brother." "I certainly would be. Tell me, which book did you both read and bond over? I’m sure Lauren and I would love to read it as well." I hesitate. Damn. I should have seen this coming. My mind scrambles for an answer, but it’s blank. Any title. Any author. Anything. "1984," Rena says smoothly, setting her half-eaten bread down. Her voice is calm, self-assured. "It’s an interesting read, given the current times."

“Start. Talking.” I exhaled, then sipped the latte, stalling. “Vivian.” “Okay! Okay.” I leaned in. “We hadn’t spoken in over a week. Nothing. No texts. No calls. I was convinced he had decided to just… erase everything.” Summer’s face softened. “And that didn’t hurt at all?” “Don’t start,” I warned, smiling bitterly. “So yesterday, I had a meeting with a client—Michael Hart, you remember him?”

I warned. Speaking of Adam, it's been a week since we last saw each other and talked since we ate at the Italian restaurant. Since our visit to his penthouse didn't happen. But somehow, I still update him on what's happening with me every day, even though he just reads my messages without replying. Whether I admit it or not, I kind of miss him. And I really, really hate it. ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ