The Forgotten Love Novel Novels & Stories

'We must check our Luna, she is not safe here even if the Alpha believe she is' Knox states, he was always the straight thinker The sight of a sleeping Rory helps ease my mind and calm my nerves, even Kane's roaring snores from on the sofa brings me some comfort. This seems like the perfect time to sit out on the balcony and flick through the book Elder Micha gave me. It was a hand written book filled with scraps and notes, most of it was in such poor handwriting that I struggled deciphering many of the words but from what I could make out, this book or more journal, had belonged to our late Luna's ancestors.

“Why? He’s no longer here. I can understand that you can’t get over him for a while, but it won’t last forever. Since you can get out of the pain, you can also forget about your feelings for him eventually, right?” Nicole looked at him. Her tone became a little cold. “No. I will never forget about him, and I’ve never put the pain behind me. I just stopped thinking about the pain for the time being. I didn’t forget it. I love him, so I naturally can’t forget every moment that I was with him. Even if I do fall in love again one day, it’ll only be because Clayton is standing in front of me.” It was Clayton’s appearance that made her feel like she had gotten a tenfold response for her feelings.

Meanwhile Ethan barely looked up from his phone as he loosened his tie. “Traffic was insane,” he muttered. I stared at him, waiting for him to say something. Surely he remembered. Surely. Vivian shifted awkwardly beside him as he slowly looked up. His gaze followed hers toward the dining room, and I watched realization dawn across his face. He looked like he genuinely forgot, and it made my stomach drop. A strange ringing filled my ears. Seven years. Seven years together and he forgot our anniversary. Again. Not the first time.

Her eyes moved fast over the first line, then the second, her lips parting without a sound coming out. The gold curtains, the tall gilded mirror, the chandelier throwing small trembling lights across the ceiling — all of it seemed to shrink and fold inward until there was nothing left in the world but her own hands and the ink staring back at her. 'The love letters I wrote to him when I was already married to President Winchester.' The words did not stay still. They rose off the page and pressed themselves against her throat, squeezing. She read the second letter, then a third, her thumb catching the corner of the paper and creasing it without meaning to.

They granted it and we were stumbling to her room, clothes being removed along the way. We made passionate love forgetting a condom in the heat of the moment. In all honesty, if I end up pregnant and something happens to her, I'll still have a piece of her with me. She took her time with me unlike our usual sessions where we rush into everything. She was worshipping every inch of me, giving gentle glides of her hips. Our kiss was slow and extremely passionate. A mix of emotions were running through me right now and I played my fingers in her hair. I'd give anything to look in those icy blues one more time.

I don't want to be like this anymore, I don't want to chase him anymore, I'll let him remember alone, did he really can remember me? Did he really want to remember me? Well, it's not my problem anymore I've had enough with him. Even, if it's breaking my heart I sigh I tried my very best for him to remember me but I failed. How can I help him to remember me when he always spend time with Loreane and now he suddenly act like that. It's hurting me whenever Loreane is around him and I felt jealous because she can make him smile, she can see the smile that I can no longer see, she can hold his hands and she can spend time with him. While me, I'm here waiting for him to remember me and him don't c

Jack said quietly. “How?!” I screamed, my voice cracking. “How do you forget the person who taught you how to breathe? How do you un-love someone who is written into your very DNA? If you have the cure for this, Jack, tell me. Because loving him feels like dying in slow motion, and I don't think I have enough of me left to survive another day of it.”

But this word belongs to you. Thank you for reading The Wife I Forget To Love. Thank you for choosing Helena’s story out of every story you could have chosen. Thank you for staying all the way to Always. With every bit of gratitude I have You can try out my new book the wife I swore I would never be on good novel Your Author. Spli_vena

It all stemmed from the regret and the bitterness festering in my heart—I hated Bianca for her lies, but I hated myself even more for my foolishness, my blindness, for hurting Seraphina with my own hands. I stayed in the villa every single day, sitting on the sofa we’d once shared, staring at the things she’d left behind, replaying every moment we’d ever had together in my mind. I thought of the awe I’d felt when we first met, of the stubbornness with which I’d courted her, of the sweetness of our engagement, of the trust and devotion she’d once had for me, of the coldness and resolve in her eyes the day she left. Every memory cut like a sharp blade into my heart, leaving me in agony beyond

Start over as if nothing had ever existed, as if no one had ever existed, as if he had never existed. "I forgot no one," he says in a voice that is now only a murmur, a voice that comes from so far away it seems to cross years, miles, silences, lies, fears. "I forgot no one. I forgot neither your face, nor your voice, nor your body, nor your scent, nor the way you laugh, nor the way you cry, nor the way you fell asleep in my arms. I forgot nothing, absolutely nothing, of that night. Of you. Of us. Of what we were. Of what we could have been. Of what we should have been. Of what we will be, if you stop running, if you stop being afraid, if you stop doubting, if you stop forgetting. If you rem