Speaking From The Heart Novels & Stories

“The truth is indeed a heavy thing to carry. It presses down on your chest until you can barely breathe. It fills your mouth until you think you’ll choke on it. But once you drop it? Once you finally let it fall from your lips and crash into the world? You feel lighter. Unburdened. Free. Yes, she was shocked. Of course she was shocked. Yes, she was angry. I expected the anger. I was prepared for it. But here’s what she didn’t do: She didn’t scream for her mother. She didn’t tell my father. She just told me to stay away. And ‘stay away’ is a temporary command. It’s not ‘never speak to me again.’ It’s not ‘I’m moving out.’ It’s just ‘give me space.’ And space… space I can work with.” He walked

No matter what, always be there when she looks back. ... Page after page, he read each note out loud. When he reached the last one, he let out a quiet chuckle. "Yara, winning your heart was so hard. Good thing I never gave up." The way he looked at her—serious, certain—caught her off guard. He really had done all this for her. If she hadn't heard him say those words herself, she might've believed it. Might've thought the Mateo standing in front of her wasn't the same man who had spent years loving someone else behind her back.

He hadn't replied to a single one until the very last message from last night. "Please take good care of Finn." Lucas collapsed, trembling to the floor, his heart wrenching in unbearable pain.

"Go to the party." Henry's voice came from behind the car, cold as if it had been quenched in ice. The four light and airy words pierced my heart like a knife. Henry's Maybach sped away, its exhaust fumes blasting in my face. I gritted my teeth and slowly got up, limping towards home. Every step sent shooting pain through my knee, but it was nothing compared to the immense pain in my heart. As soon as I got back home, the first thing I did was pack my bags.

His touch was brief, warm, and grounding. "Go show them who you are," he murmured softly. I walked out into the main hall to the sound of polite, enthusiastic applause. I stepped up to the podium, looking out over the crowd of cameras, reporters, and eager young faces sitting in the front rows. I didn't use a long, rehearsed speech written by public relations specialists. I spoke directly from my heart.

Brittany: He pulled me into a tight hug, “Brittany, listen to my heart, even if my lips are lying my heart wouldn’t lie.” His heart was thudding fast and they were giving a different sound, like he wanted to communicate something to me through his heart, and I could hear the mixture of his heartbeat and that of his wolf's heart. “I do not want to listen to your heart just go away.” I pushed him slightly from myself. “As at this point, I do not care what you or your heart have to say, please go away, leave me alone, I am broken already, don’t add to it.”

But. I was still hoping I guess, that we would be able to work it out. I couldn't hate him, even when I had every reason to. After all, he was the only man I had ever loved. And he was the only man I was going to love. Because the heart is a bitch, you can't make it understand by reasoning with it. It forgets all the hurt someone caused you, all the pain, all the misery. It only remembers those moments when someone made you breathless. Over and over, it just runs toward one person. And unfortunately for me, that one person was Landon.

My heartbeat felt too loud in my ears, but I forced myself to keep speaking. “Because you already know what it feels like to lose something fundamental to who you are,” I said quietly. “Even if you don’t want to admit it.”

She requested. “ What is it? As long as I can do it!” He replied. “ Could you call my husband and tell him that I miss him and our children. And I want you to tell him that we'll see each other soon. Also tell them that I love them.” Danielle's heart began to feel heavy to carry. She felt heartbroken. She has been long away from her own family. Her tears fell and she started sobbing. “ I will. “ Johnson agreed and before he could say something more, the phone was hang up.

“I want you to know that this is entirely your choice. You can say as much or as little as you want. Nothing will be printed unless you are comfortable with it.” I nodded, sitting down beside her, feeling a strange calm settle over me. “Thank you. I don’t want to make a spectacle of myself. I just… I want people to understand, not judge. There is no hatred in my heart, but there is a lesson I have learned that I feel is worth sharing.” Elena opened her notebook, ready to listen. “Whenever you are ready.” I took a deep breath, looking out at the flowers swaying gently in the breeze, and began to speak—slowly, simply, and from the heart.