The Happiness Trap Audiobook นิยาย & เรื่องราว

I’m a fucking piece of meat and that’s how I find solace in this misery that I’ve been locked up throughout my whole existence. Am I happy? Yeah, probably, maybe, somehow. I’m satisfied with getting temporary happiness out of the temporary people that I met because that’s the only way I know I could taste happiness. Happiness in permanence is just allergic of me and no matter how I tried to embrace it in full glory, it just keeps on escaping out of my hands.

The Wellington name, which had once sat over everything in my life like a ceiling I couldn’t raise, was now associated with scandal and fraud and the kind of public disgrace that took generations to recover from. And I was here. Dancing. “So yes,” I answered myself. “I am happy.” It surprised me a little, even now. Not that I had gotten here but that happiness, when it finally arrived, felt so ordinary. Not loud. Not triumphant. Just warm and steady. Like something that had always belonged to me.

And he'll allow the average brains live longer. The good ones die quick, she said to herself. Dr montoya swallowed a lump"let's go on with the questioniare. " "Yes, I'm numb every day. Happiness is something like an event. I don't know how else people can assume to be happy every day like its a natural state. "He said. "Doesn't come often? " His gaze seemed to say:here she goes keeping the voice gentle, when she feels nothing but disgust. "Not with any one? "She prided when he'd remained silent. "Friends? "

They tasted like beer. “Are you drunk already?” He chuckled. “On half a beer? No.” “So, you’re just being overly charming, laying it on thick.” My eyes narrowed. “What are you up to?” He quirked his brow at me. “What I am up to is cloud-fucking-nine, because I haven’t felt this good or been this happy in years. If I seem drunk, it’s because I’m drunk on happiness and…giddiness. I’m giddy.”

We’ve survived everything: lies, fear, mistakes, heartbreak, and somehow… we came out stronger, crazier, and more in love than ever. I glance at Freya and Alan, our friends-turned-family-turned-extended-anchors in this beautiful storm, and think, Yep. This is it. This is happiness. This is life. And Viktor? Oh, Viktor is already plotting world domination, and I have no idea how to stop him...but I’ll try. And if I fail, at least I’ll be laughing along with him. A FINAL WORD ABOUT HAPPINESS Happiness isn’t neat. It isn’t perfect. It’s spilled cereal, mismatched socks, sticky fingerprints, toddlers running wild, kids arguing over the last cookie, parents tripping over backpacks, laughter echoi

It shouldn’t be that. Ocelotte turned on the car’s speaker, and a raspy, melancholic female voice filled the car — "You want my happiness, "But I don’t have that much happiness. "Happiness drowns in this world, "Happiness drowns in tears, "Through my fingers, I watch your unintentional sneer, and I forget to cry. "It turns out, you don’t like seeing me sad…"

With Elijah, the ground was too smooth—so smooth I didn't realize I was slipping until I was already falling. I just want to be happy. Is that too much to ask? My own words from the night before haunted me. Was happiness this? A quiet car, a beautiful ring in a velvet box, and a man who stabilized my life? Or was happiness the chaotic, terrifying laughter I’d shared with Kian on the sidewalk?

"Now you're most infuriating person I've ever met who also happens to be my mate, coalition director, and international awakening support leader. The stubbornness scaled with responsibilities." "You're so romantic." "I'm honest. Romance is overrated." He pulled me close. "But seriously—are you happy? Beyond the work, beyond the achievements, are you actually happy?" I considered the question carefully. "I'm healing. Building life beyond survival. Learning to exist without constant crisis. I wouldn't call it happy yet—there's too much unprocessed trauma. But I'm moving toward happy. That's more than I had five years ago." "That's enough. Moving toward happy is excellent progress."

My heart was pounding even as my nose picked up the pungent scent of alcohol, and at the very next instant, I felt a large pair of arms wrapping firmly around me. He wasn't letting me go, and kept mumbling, "I missed you so much, darling. Come home with me, okay? I swear I won't ever see Sally anymore. "I don't blame you for getting an abortion. We will have more children from now on…" Realizing struggling won't work, I screamed on top of my lungs, "Let me go!!! Help!!! Somebody help!!!" It was a quiet night—upon hearing my voice, the neighbors all scrambled outside, hoes and shovels in hand as they whacked the man without a word.

“All the time. Especially at first. I felt guilty for leaving. Guilty for finding someone new. Guilty for being happy when I’d spent so many years being miserable. Like I didn’t deserve it somehow.” “Exactly,” I breathed. “That’s exactly how I feel.” “But here’s what I learned,” Maya said. “Happiness isn’t something you have to earn. It’s not a reward for suffering enough. You deserve to be happy just because you exist. Period.” Dr. Benson nodded. “That’s something we’ve been working on in your sessions too, Zara. The belief that you deserve good things.” “It’s hard to believe that when everyone you’ve trusted has hurt you,” I said.