The Leftovers Series Novels & Stories

People always held onto memories, whether they were of a person, an event, or even food. While he focused on cooking, I slipped away, lightly closing the door behind me. I had lied to him. Not only was I leaving, but I would never come back into his life again. ... To help me recover in peace, Dane left all his work behind and took me to Verihaven, a peaceful town surrounded by beautiful mountains and rivers. By tacit understanding, neither of us mentioned Jethro. One day, I was in my room, writing my will. I rewrote it over and over, but I was never satisfied.

After all, three days ago, I had reunited with my birth parents, the Alpha and Luna of the Frostvale Pack. I turned and entered the storage room. My belongings had been thrown everywhere. The moon-vine gift box had been crushed. The replica Luna crown lay in a corner. The pack totem tapestries I had painted by hand were covered in dust. They had once carried every hope I had as a homeless rogue dreaming of a future. One by one, I threw the things Scarlett had ruined into the burn pit. Drake nodded in satisfaction. “Those things aren’t worth much. We can buy new ones when we hold the ceremony again.”

At the same time, something shattered behind me. I turned and saw Madison standing there, her face pale. At her feet were two spilled strawberry milkshakes. It used to be my favorite drink. The milkshakes had splashed all over me. Madison apologized again and again, crouching down in a panic and trying to wipe the mess with her sleeve. Claire let out a long breath as she rose to her feet and shoved Madison away. Her voice was strained with barely concealed irritation. "Ms. Anderson, when will this end? You being here has done no good to Travis. Please leave. Now."

“I got extra ketchup packets, and I added a chocolate milkshake. Tristan and Victor and I all had one. It was the best part of dinner.” I watched her set down the styrofoam clamshells. I remembered that people here in the United States often took home leftovers. I never did that in Europe. The food portions back home were smaller, so there was usually nothing left over to take. I slid off the bed and walked over to the small, stiff sofa. I unfolded a napkin and placed it on my lap. I could pretend to sleep later. Right now, I needed calories.

One of my friends slammed a hand on the table in disbelief. "I can't believe he's actually taking the food!" Drew had a busy social life, while I was often working late into the night. He always insisted that taking leftovers was embarrassing, yet he never bothered to order food just for me. The only thing he had brought me was scraps meant for his friend's dog. He even had the nerve to scold me for wasting it. "People used to consume grass to survive. What's wrong with eating leftovers? Stop acting so spoiled." Looking back now, it was clear he cared more about his ego than about me.

Leaning against his chest as he carried her to a chair at the table and sat down, she whispered to him, “Oh my dear mate, I plan on being your dessert.” Nathan wished the meal was over before it even began. He ended up happy he didn’t skip the dinner and just carried Katia up to their room. The food was the best he had yet. The woman and Maria, the kitchen mother, out did themselves. There was turkey, duck, chicken, pheasant, beef roast, pork roast, mashed potatoes, baked potatoes, sweet potatoes, any vegetable you could think of, stuffing of several kinds, cranberries and the sauce, gravies, and Nathan didn’t even want to think of all the different desserts. The two packs would eat off the

Normally, she would’ve felt nauseous at the greasiness, but one forkful of sausage brings her to tears. There’s definitely a huge difference between eating kitchen leftovers and a paid meal. “This isn’t signed,” Williams remarks as he goes over the contract. . . TBC . Hope you guys enjoy this chapter. And if you can, please support me by dropping a comment or gems <3... sincerely, me!!.

“I guess you're all better now. Let's go back to your room. This place creeps me out.“ I suggested. “This place is very bright though. I don't know why you see it as creepy.“ He answered, following behind me. We silently went back to the room. He laid on the bed, I took the food box I brought to him. He stared at me in confusion. “What is this?“ “What does it look like?“ I sarcastically replied, “It's food of course. I cooked dinner so I decided to bring some.“ He grinned, “Oooh… Look at you acting all romantic.“ My face flushed, my heart skipped a beat at his comment. “What? I only brought some because we couldn't finish everything. Don't get any ideas.“ I retorted. “So this is what your le

"Have a bite." 'So, breakfast isn't buns and oatmeal,' I thought. Then, I turned my face away, sniffing hard to keep my tears back. "Thank you." … With Timothy taking care of me, I recovered quickly. When I stepped back into the house, I saw Mrs. Romger and a group of servants kneeling in a row, visibly trembling. At the very front were Winnie and Elias.

However, it was well-cleaned. Joseph laid his eyes on the desk. A row of medicine bottles stood on the surface. Beside them was a calendar with only one page left. With trembling hands, he picked up the bottles. Every single one of them was labeled 'For post-heart transplant use.' A sticky note was stuck underneath. It read, 'Asterna, one-way trip, 4:00 PM tomorrow.' There were only a few bleached clothes left in the cabinet. The cardboard box in the corner caught his attention. When he opened it up, what he saw made him gasp.