Ten Years Late Novels & Stories

ANDERA. TEN YEARS LATER. It all started with our divorce. Lies. Betrayals. Regrets. Revenge. And somehow—redemption. It led us here. Ten years later, to where we’re supposed to be. Together. Timmy and I are curled under a wide umbrella, tucked into two folding chairs with a cooler between us. The shade casts long shadows across the sand. “Daddy, stop it,” Tiffany whined. She stood not too far from the shoreline in a sundress, her hair in a ponytail; Thane continued leveling a death glare at the teenage boy who approached Tiffany.

CALISTA'S POV ****Ten Years Later*** Woah. It's already ten years, and everything just went fast like a flash. I couldn't believe that it was just ten years ago, since some nefarious calamities befell me left, right, and center. But, I'm grateful. It's been ten years of peace, ten years of love, and ten years of vitality. I am a better person now, and all the hurdles I've had to step over, have shaped me into the best version of myself.

"For not being too late." Something moved through his expression. Twenty years of lateness, set down quietly. "Go," he said. "He needs to know today." I went.

“I was late.” She chuckled. “Raya… What are you saying? I don't understand.” “RAVEN terminated my contract. I was ei...eighteen minutes late.” “Oh, Goddess, have mercy. Are you serious, Raya?” she growled. “Is this one of your tricks to get back at me for what I said about your—” “Are you going to serve burnt bread to the wolves? Hurry up and take the next orders!” another voice barked behind the phone.

"There's a thin line between being sarcastic and stupid. Hope you'd figure it out." She clenched her teeth and walked out of the room in embarrassment. "I apologise on behalf of her. She has no idea about it." Atlas Barrette's voice brought me from my trance that now we both are alone in the room. "Don't." I stated. He exhaled his breath and get up only to walk to me. "Hazel, let me give a chance to explain everything." I clicked my tongue. "Ten years. Ten fucking years, Atlas." He rubbed his palm over his face. "I know. I know, okay? But please hear me out."

She carefully flipped it open. "16th August. My stomach's been hurting lately. Classmates took me to the hospital. Apparently, I have late-stage stomach cancer, and I only have three months left to live. I still owe my classmates the consultation fee. I told Mom about it, but she didn't believe me." "3rd September. My stomach's getting worse. Every day's torture. Sometimes I think death might be a release, but I still have the whole world to explore." "20th September. I don't think I can last three months. My body hurts everywhere. I think my release is coming sooner rather than later."

The entirety of South City had witnessed our love. On our wedding day, he swore on God, "Lia, I'll never betray you, and I'll never hurt you." And yet, in the end, he did both. Suddenly, I felt so, so tired… I lay on the floor the whole night, my mind never stopped resting. When morning came, I made my decision. I called my father, Midas Medina. "Dad, Medina Group is expanding its business in Lumiere City lately, right? I want to go there for a while, to learn and see how things work."

Then came our anniversary. I had bought a cake and prepared a feast, eagerly waiting for him to come home from work. I waited from dusk until the early hours of the morning, but he never showed up. I had called him multiple times. “One of my colleagues called in sick, and I’m covering for him,” he had said when he finally answered. “Is anyone even riding hot air balloons at this hour?” I asked. “Don’t be suspicious. I’m just putting in some extra hours. The hot air balloons need maintenance too.”

Elena’s chat icon blinked red every few days: —The rose dome of St. Cecilia Cathedral. —The new rose-gold Beretta Dad bought her, the family crest inlaid on the grip. —Caption: Family first. I scrolled past them, never hitting “like”. On Thanksgiving, the project team got 48 hours off. I stayed on site duty. It was 23 degrees Fahrenheit at night. I sat in the back of the pickup wrapped in a sleeping bag, staring up at the Milky Way. My phone vibrated. A voice message from Mom. Piano and laughter in the background: “Rhea, look what we got. Seafood. Your favorite—”

"I'm sorry, but Felicity and I are over. Who she's with or what she does is none of my business anymore." I turned to leave, but Felicity grabbed my wrist, her eyes blazing. "Say that again!" Her urgency wasn't love. It was pride. I met her gaze, unblinking. "We're done. I gave you ten years and ten shots. While I nursed your mom, you were locking lips with Julian. Every time I planned an engagement, you ditched me. I'm a person, not your toy. Why did you string me along if you couldn't commit?"