Tender Years Novels & Stories

He was unshaven and haggard, his eyes shot with red, his fingers trembling uncontrollably. "Abby." He pulled me into a tight, desperate hug, letting out a sigh of pure relief. For a dizzying second, I was thrown back to the early years of our hustle together. I'd gone to another city to bail him out of a jam, and he had held me just like this. He'd clung to me, whining like a child. "When we finally get out of this life, we'll get married. I'll lock you by my side every day so you can never leave me again."

I stuffed the last piece of clothing into the suitcase and snapped it shut, then I looked around the apartment. Having lived here for five years, my presence was everywhere, from the paintings on the walls to the throw pillows on the couch and the plants on the balcony. Now, those very details felt like a cruel joke. I wheeled my suitcase toward the living room and paused to look at the calendar. New Year’s Day was tomorrow. A fresh start and a brand-new year. Without hesitation, I reached for my phone and reserved a seat on the first high-speed train heading to Cedar Hollow, my hometown.

He shouted loudly, trying to catch my attention in the distance. "Explain this to me! Are you all playing some kind of joke on me?!" His outburst drew the attention of nearby guests. But the hall was filled with noise and chatter—his voice never reached me or Devon. Lauren let out a cold laugh and sneered, "What's there to explain? Mason, do you even know how many chances Madison gave you? Can you count them? For eight years, she guarded your promise and waited. You didn't want to get married—that's your business. But what right did you have to make her wait for a ninth year?

Lylah sat down, blocking Raj from her vision and blocking his voice as well. The public needs something new, something fresh, production companies need this, it is a hit novel by our very own editor, Lylah Jeurgens, Ladies and Gentlemen, I present, Hurt In A Year", Raj clapped. The auditorium erupted with series of clapping. Lylah abruptly stood to her feet, looking around frantically. What in the world was going on?, This wasn't the book she agreed to pitch. Was Raj trying to set her up?, How did he even know about Hurt In A Year?

XERAPHINA “Thank you so much for this, Xeraphina. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to feel wanted, to have fun of any kind. I’ve been in a rut for ten years now. You have brought back my youth.” “Oh, come on. You’re only twenty-eight. You are not that old Tilly.” “Actually, I’m nearing twenty-seven.” Halting, I glance at her, my face scrunching up in confusion. “What did you just say?”

Then Helen and Richard left, saying that they would come to see me tomorrow. Jeffrey stood outside the door, hesitant to leave. "Audrey, we can never be together again, right?" Hearing this, Kash wanted to go up and hit him, but I stopped Kash. "Yes. "I’ve been unhappy for the past seven years. Jeffrey, how many seven years are there in one’s life?"

But another part, a deeper part, was wary of opening myself up to potential pain and disappointment once again. The memories flooded back, the moments of emptiness and neglect that had shaped my childhood. I had grown up too fast, forced to take on responsibilities that no child should bear. The scars of her addiction had left a lasting impact on my life, making it hard for me to trust or let anyone in.

That night, we sat together watching old videos of Tessa dancing in her Halloween costume, of the three of us making pancakes and setting off the smoke alarm, of birthdays and bad haircuts and Sunday mornings in pajamas. I wasn’t packing boxes yet, but the goodbye had begun. And with Chloe by my side, it didn’t feel so lonely. For it to be two quarters

Zack’s gaze drops to the poem Anna is pointing at, his brow furrowing slightly as he reads the title. He leans closer, getting a better look at the poem, his initial skepticism giving way to curiosity. The title itself seems simpler than some of the other abstract options they have been looking at. “Coloured,” he repeats thoughtfully. “Maybe this won’t be so bad.” His fingers trace the short lines of the poem on the page. The poem appears to explore the relationship between being lively and spirited and age. “So, you want me to analyze this one for you,” he asks and looks up at her brown eyes. Anna nods, “But first, you have to find your love poem and analyze it, then copy over the analysis

" Screaming and crying, Mom lunged toward the corner, desperately trying to piece her phone back together. But the scattered components were already beyond saving. "You're the vile one! That's your own son we're talking about!" Uncle Arnold frowned and put down his fork. "Trevor, maybe you should give Julian a call. Three hours without moving really is a bit—" Dad shot him a displeased glare. "Arnold, don't tell me you're falling for that sentimental nonsense too? Julian's just lazy and waiting for me to go get him. "If I cave now, all the hardship from before will have been for nothing. This is called psychological warfare, understand?"