The Good Life Novels & Stories

"No! It wasn't me! I didn't hire the hitman, Cassian. Please spare me. I'm begging you. I really don't want to die…" "Don't be so gullible. You were born into a wealthy family. You spent your entire life feasting on the best food and booze, sleeping around with gorgeous women, and driving the fanciest cars. You've enjoyed a luxurious life, far beyond what an ordinary person could ever experience. "Even if you die, you wouldn't have to regret missing out on anything." Cassian started the engine and pressed down on Frederick's right knee, flooring the accelerator, before swiftly letting go.

"Xavier! Come out and see me!" Somehow, Melanie had forced her way through the first security line. In the downpour, she held up a half-soaked velvet box. Inside lay a cheap green ring. It was one half of a pair we had bought from a street stall after our first wedding. Melanie said in a broken voice, "I was diagnosed with late-stage stomach cancer… They say I have three months at most… Please have pity on me." Angela's fingers tightened around mine. The woman known as the "mad dog" of Wesson Street was trembling slightly with reddened eyes. She was scared that my heart would ultimately soften toward Melanie.

Once a rising star in the tech world, she fell from grace almost overnight. She sold her mansion and luxury cars, yet it still wasn’t enough to cover her massive debts. Eventually, her ID was seized by the court, turning her into someone who couldn’t even take a high-speed train. To escape her creditors, Susie stowed away on a deep-sea fishing vessel. In the stinking ship cabin, she worked eighteen hours a day. Her hands were cut and bleeding from the fishing nets, but at least she had food and lodging and could earn a meager wage.

“No, thank you. Without it I would have never gotten home.” “I guess that’s true. I just want you to know, you were right. The hourglass you used today was the same one you used in the past. I'm sorry I didn't believe you.” “It's okay. Friends fight sometimes.” Isabella hands the Good Witch the last piece of candy. “What’s this for?” “Don’t you remember. I said I was going to share it with my friend.” “I do recall that.” The Good Witch smiled and the chocolate brought back all the good memories.

You might laugh at my words now. However, my love, I'd give my life to show you my love is true. Or maybe, I'm just paying for my unforgivable mistakes. I wish you a future filled with strength, peace, and lasting joy. May your path be smooth, your life worry-free.] Those few lines summed up Wynnie's entire existence. A tear slid down, unnoticed, splashing onto the darkened phone screen, leaving a tear-stained bloom. "Honey? What's wrong?" Elena's voice came from nearby, laced with concern.

Kendra wore a light blue dress, the sunlight dancing along the tips of her hair. We promised forever as the sun dipped behind the trees. But now, all those sweet moments had turned bitter. Time changed everything. What once felt sacred now felt like a cruel joke.

“Oh! Okay.” “You can come back for it in three hours.” “Three hours, sure!” My left leg bounced involuntarily, my body reacting in ways I couldn't understand. “Do you know your way back home?” Home… something about the way he said the word made it sound like somewhere safe. “I will call an Uber.” I answered. He seemed to be thinking about it, like he wanted to refuse but then he nodded. “Ai'it then. Be good.” Oh heavens! Being hot was enough, but telling me to ‘be good’ while being so fucking hot was too much for me to handle.

I said, very seriously, "No, Mommy. You're a good person. You always told me that doing good things is never wrong. You were just unlucky. You saved a really bad person." My mom finally laughed through her tears. The sadness in her eyes slowly faded away. She pulled out a black card and waved it in front of me with a playful wink. "This is my reward for completing the mission. From now on, you and I are going to live a very happy and wonderful life." She used the money to buy a small apartment. It wasn't big, but she kept it clean and warm. Later, she opened a little flower shop. Every day, she was surrounded by flowers. Her days were peaceful and content.

They feel curious. “What does a good life look like to you?” he asks one night as we clean up after dinner. I pause—not because I don’t know, but because the answer has changed. “A life where I don’t have to escape from myself,” I say slowly. “Where joy doesn’t feel borrowed. Where love doesn’t cost peace.” He nods, thoughtful. “Then we should build toward that.” Build. The word matters. Because building is active. Because building assumes continuity. Because building means you expect something to last long enough to matter.

She stopped bowing her head slightly. "Sometimes we crave for money hoping that having more will give us happiness or real joy in the future, but the truth is money does not give us happiness. A simple life is the best. Money is important, but as long as we have the basic needs of life,' food, clothing, and shelter, we should be content with these things. With the basic needs of life, we will be more than happy, free from debt and have a free life," Mrs. Gladys was still surprised she was talking to a girl old enough to be her daughter. She has this kind of wisdom, and her words were soothing to her. She has realized a lot of things.