That Was His Mistake Novels & Stories

He said, also at the top of his voice and it felt as if my clothes were carried away by a strong wind, leaving me naked in the middle of the street. “ What did you say?” I asked, almost about to cry. “ You heard me right. It was a mistake. The act was a mistake on my part and I apologize for it”, he said, still not looking at me. I exhaled, trying to calm myself before eventually exploding. “ What was a mistake? The fact that you fell in love with me or the fact that you kissed me?” I asked, seeking clarification. “ Everything. All of it was a mistake”. “ You kissed me, remember? And now it's a mistake?”

He is a pawn in this game and pawns are expendable. Have I just made a mistake? Well, let’s face it, all of this has been a mistake from the start, so what is one more?

he said and turned to walk away. I collapsed back into my chair after he was gone and that was when I received a credit notice in my account and it wasn’t a thousand dollars, it was 5000 dollars!

I was hopefully praying it's not what I think. He sighed, moving back. "I'm sorry Bianca. It was a mistake." A mistake? He had something to do with her recently? How is that a mistake?

I followed him to the kitchen more out of surprise than actual hunger, watching him move around the space with the same quiet competence I’d seen that first awkward morning weeks ago, pulling out eggs, bread, whatever simple thing he could put together at this hour without waking Marta. “You really don’t have to do this,” I said, settling onto one of the stools. “I know.” He cracked an egg into the pan without looking up. “I want to.” I didn’t have a response to that, so I just watched him instead, the quiet, careful way he moved through his own kitchen, still in his wedding clothes, sleeves rolled up, doing something as ordinary as making toast at two in the morning for a wife he’d married

"I know how this looks right now." I turned around slowly, leaning back against the counter. "Looks?" "Elena—" "No, define that word for me in this context." His eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I made mistakes. Terrible mistakes." "Mistakes are forgetting to pick up dry cleaning." "Please, just listen to me—" "Mistakes are buying the wrong brand of milk," I said, my voice remaining perfectly level while his desperation mounted. "Mistakes are not systematically robbing your teenage son to build a baseline for another woman's child."

He made a big mistake, he wasn't always thinking with his brain every time. He gulped, "I'm so sorry" he blurted out, he didn't know why he said that but he needed to because he thought he was wrong. "it wasn't intentional, it happened in the spore of pleasure" he tried to read her face but he couldn't because she wasn't giving anything away. Fuck!.

I wish she will be dead and never wake up again. "Have you forgotten what Diana told you? I've you forgotten so soon?" He asked in a low voice but his words were so harsh. I looked down at my shoes. I know I messed up big time. "How do we correct this foolish mistake?" he asked. He went to sit on the sofa and put his hand on his forehead as if he got a headache. I really wasn't thinking well before I did what I did but now what is the solution. I went to my father and knelt before him so I could look at him.

Because he knew exactly what was wrong with him. And he knew who the cure was. But she was someone he could never have again, not in this lifetime. Eventually, the pack elders suggested he step down from his Alpha duties and focus on healing. He agreed without argument. He locked himself inside his villa, cutting himself off from the outside world. No matter how bright the sun was outside, he kept the curtains drawn tight. Not a sliver of light made it in. One day, he found himself remembering all the cruel things he'd said to Tessa. He thought about the drawings he'd heartlessly thrown away. And he kept whispering apologies, over and over.

They reached for him and got him up and I walked close to face him and he was begging for mercy. “NO, please p-please. I didn’t mean to hurt her.” He coughed again, “I made a stupid mistake,” he was wheezing in pain. “I don’t care what you did,” I clicked my tongue. I clenched my fists and punched him in the gut a few times and stopped to speak. “Lift up him straight,” I shouted, “and bring me that sledgehammer.” “N-no,” he paused wincing, “P-p-please. Stop. I love her.” He started to sob dragging his battered body down.