The Deep Blue Good-by Novels & Stories

When the air and the silence were back to normal, Arabella heaved a deep sigh. Bill just dumped her and Trishia begged for Bill. It was time for her to close their story. With a heavy heart, “Goodbye, Bill Sky.” Arabella muttered in the air.

He spun a tale of devotion, transforming the truth of a stolen engagement into a grand romance, a love that had been fated all along. Some young girls in the audience even wiped away tears. Then, the emcee glanced at Abby. He hesitated briefly before resuming his script. At that moment, the slideshow on the screen changed. The photos of the happy couple vanished, replaced by something else. Evidence provided by Jessica. A voice echoed through the venue, "Jess, you never should have been born. You can never win against me." "Oh, wait. I'm not the one who's sick. You are—the one with terminal stomach cancer. You don't have much time left, do you?"

] Come morning, Lucas was at my door, desperate to clear the air, insisting they had not done a thing. "Take down your post, will you? Yvonne was just blowing off steam. Her new business can't take the hit if your clients see that..." I coolly told him, "I really do wish you the best." That set off his alarm bells. I slid the signed divorce papers across to him. "We're done, Lucas."

However, the sharpness in his expression was much less prominent than before. When he saw me, his expression changed, and I could tell that he hadn’t let go yet. I smiled. “Ditch the flowers. It’s been two years already. I feel like I never really had the chance to say goodbye properly.” With that, I turned and walked away. Only then did I truly feel reborn.

"A disbarred divorce lawyer. Racing him is lowering our status." "I didn't think eight divorces could become real life." I sighed inwardly. Thinking of my passport and ID, I finally closed my eyes for a second. "How do you want to race? Just say it." Nolan's mouth curved upward as he bent into the driver's seat. "Simple. Whoever reaches the finish line first wins. "But if anything happens, if someone dies, then too bad." Nolan said the last part very softly. My heart jumped. I instinctively tightened my grip on the steering wheel.

… The cabin went dead quiet, except for the distant booms of explosions creeping closer, a grim reminder that trouble was on our tail. Everett scanned the room, a satisfied grin on his face as he saw the fear he had sparked. He gave me a softer look and said, "Thanks for backing up Annie, Daniela. I always knew my girl was the most understanding, the most decent person out there. "Since you've been such an angel, here's my vow. We make it back safe, and we're heading straight to the altar. "From then on, it's just you and me." That promise, so hauntingly familiar. He had played me with those same words in my previous life. I kept that thought to myself, fighting back the urge to gag, and man

"I’ve had enough of this trip down memory lane. I have a conference call in an hour. Are you coming or not?" Evelyn opened her mouth to speak, but a sudden, sharp pain flared in her lungs. She doubled over, gasping for air. The sky, which had been bright and clear moments ago, suddenly turned a bruised purple. A low rumble of thunder rolled across the horizon. "Arthur," she tried to call out, but her voice was swallowed by a sudden gust of wind. Arthur didn't turn around. He was already thirty yards away, his back a rigid, unforgiving line. He disappeared around the corner of the brick gymnasium, heading toward the car.

I had been filled with joy back then, but now I was left with nothing but a heart full of sorrow. "I'll respond to that question," Marcello said after taking the mic from the staff, his voice projecting throughout the hall over the sound system. "DeepBlue Gen-1 does have similarities to Gallo Group's upcoming product," Marcello said before pausing for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the audience. "It's not because of plagiarism but because of a leak." In that instant, everyone in the hall broke into a frenzy, and Stefano, who was standing backstage, had his fists clenched tightly.

Then he sighed, almost amused at himself. “Go,” he said, and let me go with one last squeeze. “Before I change my mind and keep you here.” I smiled and stepped back. The blue dress moved around my legs in the terrace breeze. His coffee sat forgotten on the railing. Behind him, the sea kept glittering like nothing in the world could touch us. “Goodbye.” “Goodbye, baby.”

My wife, Sarah, was the executive chef at a renowned Michelin-starred restaurant in town. Her culinary creations were famous across the city, making a reservation nearly impossible to secure. Yet in our ten years of marriage, she had never cooked me a single meal at home. She always claimed that cooking was just her job, and when she came home, she didn’t want to set foot in the kitchen. Naturally, I wanted to visit her restaurant and taste her food. However, every time I brought it up, she insisted that all the tables were fully booked and told me not to make a scene. Everything changed when my mother’s seventieth birthday approached. Half a month in advance, I asked Sarah if she could