The Good Left Undone Novels & Stories

After that, sure enough, Adrian didn't come back. Not even a single message. But there was one thing worth being glad about. At night, I could finally sleep without leaning on anything. That night I slept well, deep and dreamless, all the way through. Today was my last day here. I gathered up everything in this house that Adrian had given me. What could be donated, I donated. What couldn't, I burned. The fire roared and turned every memory of us to ash, the way our love would never be whole again.

He followed up with a taunting text, telling me to wait for the day I would come crawling back to him. I was still puzzled over his sudden windfall when Wade Larsen called me. "Holly, who knew you had such a head for business but were clueless about love." I was already seething, ready to let loose a tirade. However, then Wade hit me with a barrage of photos and videos. "It sucks to be stabbed in the back by someone you trusted, right? You're lucky I'm the one telling you. Anyone else might have left you to go broke." I watched the video of Bennett and Wade's conversation and the final offer of 150,000 dollars for their cooperation. There was no mistaking what had gone down.

he checked the clock hanging opposite to him, “It’s been late, your friend is probably waiting for you…” It was almost 11 pm he jumped up to leave when Nick stopped him, asking to wait a second. He walked to the shelf. He came back with a torn out book, with a yellow dandelion painted on the cover, in a blue font drawn over it, ‘Love of Youth.’ Nick handed him this book, asking, “Read this. You’ll like it,” patting on the book. That whole night he read the book with a tiny sleep of four hours in the dawn. He came back to the shop next morning, reading the rest of it there, completely drown in the book. He didn’t realize someone came in.

Pete remained motionless until the next morning when the elders of the family council found him. “Donna should be buried. You, as Don, shouldn’t have fallen so low.” Pete roared, “No! You can’t take her away! She’s mine!” The elders, watching this scene, waved for their men to remove Isabella’s body. Pete stood there helplessly, his pleas unwavering. A subordinate approached cautiously, his voice low and fearful. “Don, the manor has been cleaned up. Would you like to see it?”

With a steady hand, she drew a large, bold 'X' over the first day of the month. The kitchen was quiet again. The only thing left of Arthur was the half-empty cup of coffee and the lingering scent of his cologne in the air. Evelyn leaned her head against the wall, her fingers tracing the rough paper of the calendar. "Ninety-nine days left," she said to the silence.

The elders exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of what to make of the scandal unfolding before them. "Who says I'm without proof?" I smirked, pulling out a digital recorder. "Here's the juicy bit of Derick and Jasmine's midnight rendezvous from last night. While they played me for a fool, the kid they thought was mine was burning up with fever all alone in his bed!"

My finger hovered over the power button. It was not because I was unsure of leaving, but because I was wondering if leaving so abruptly was really the best choice. Lyle noticed my hesitation. He tugged at my sleeve, lowering his head, his voice muffled as he reminded me, “Mommy, we should go.” Looking into his urging eyes, everything suddenly became clear to me. I had always known that Henry was not a good person. I knew he did not love me. I knew this marriage was a complete mistake.

That was when my phone buzzed with an email. I opened it to find a photo of the endless ocean, its blues merging with the sky. There it was, Wynnie's goodbye note. [Kelvin, if you're reading this, I'm probably gone. I've often pondered the cruel jokes of fate. You gave me your whole heart, but I was blind to my own. Now that I've hurt you enough to drive you away, I realize I can't bear a life without you. You might laugh at my words now.

I leaned against him and looked at the hydrangeas, the rosemary, and Finn's crooked tag that said Home. "Yeah," I whispered. "I'm good." The girl who once waited behind Bianca for leftovers never imagined she would be loved this firmly. Not accepted after comparison. Not picked up because someone else left. Not a shadow beside another woman's bright life. The only one. The night was good. The wind was good. I was good too.

By the time the car left North Harbor, the sky had finally cleared. In the rearview mirror, Commission men had pinned Damon down, and the folding knife lay on the road with a small, pale sound. The wind swallowed it almost immediately. I didn’t ask what would happen to him afterward. To me, the name Damon Moretti already belonged with the old letters burned to ash, the wedding ring sunk in the harbor, and the ruined dream I had stopped trying to save. One month later, I bought my first warehouse site in a lake town to the south.