Novel & Cerita The Promise The Book

I stared down at my mother and father, Luna Ashly’s words coming back into my mind: “My dear Laura, I promised your mother that I would keep you safe. I promised your father that no harm would come to you… There are some things I can never tell you… the promises I made both of them prohibit it.” I stared so long at them both trying desperately to understand what this meant that I did not notice Domini approach me. “Laura?” He asked touching my shoulder softly, I jumped and turned around to scold him. “Don’t sneak up on me! You almost gave me a panic attack!” Domini smirked for a moment before noticing the photo album in my hands. “What’s that?” He asked as he made a move to grab it from my h

“Here, wrap your pinky around mine. “Maddie instructs. “That’s it. And now we shake.“ “What is this for exactly?“ “The idea is that if you break the promise, you break your pinky.“ Maddie informs me. “Hence, pinky promise.” It breaks? I look up at her at the violent idea. It’s surprising to hear. “Does it? “ I’m not even questioning how it does- maybe magic? “I’ve never broken a promise, and my pinky’s still okay. So probably. “Maddie smiles. “Here, “Maddie holds her finger with mine, and we shake. “Now it’s a promise. I will do all I can to get you away from that dreadful Mykhol. “

Because Marie had to leave at that time, and in order to conclude their talk and her beautiful bond with Jean, Marie requested, “Jean, promise me that when we both grow up and get a job, we will meet each other. Promise me that you will stay in touch with me; you have my email and my phone number as well. Promise me that you will keep our friendship a secret, and you will not let any other girl become your best friend.” With a very heavy voice and a little positivity in her mind with the hope of meeting her first love again in life after a couple of years, Jean replied, “Pinky Promise!”

I could still feel it under my skin—like a signature, like a promise, like the moment a match thinks about being struck and decides it wants to be fire. “Paper,” I said softly, the word leaving a temporary fog on the window. “Promises.” And because I refused, on principle, to be the first to look away, I stood and let the city look back until dawn found us both.

I didn’t feel the urge to fill the space with noise or distraction. The promise didn’t demand attention. It just held. Later, lying in bed, I thought about how many promises I’d seen broken not because people lied, but because they’d been made from fear. From hope disguised as certainty. From a desire to lock something down before it could slip away. This wasn’t that. This promise didn’t try to secure the future. It honored the present. I wasn’t promising forever. I wasn’t promising perfection. I was promising not to abandon myself while something good was happening.

But on a Saturday evening in November, in the sitting room with the fire lit and the week's bread on the board in the kitchen and Greece in April and the east wing in the November of the seventh year, Don set down his book and said: "I want to say something about the promise." "Yes," Ernest said. He set down his own book—the food book, which he was now fifty pages into, reading at Don's recommended pace, which was slower than his natural pace but more thorough. He gave Don his full attention. The promised conversation was not a conversation for divided attention.

"She's only staying for two days. She'll definitely move out before the wedding." I said nothing. I only looked at him coldly. He stepped closer and lowered his voice, trying to coax me. "I promise nothing will happen between Abbie and me. In my eyes, she is practically one of the guys. I am not attracted to her." The moment he said that, Abbie punched him lightly in the arm, pretending to be offended. "Who are you not attracted to?" she snapped. "You big idiot. Other than that face of yours, what do you even have going for you?"

When I was standing right in front of him, I leaned down, bringing my face close to his. “Promised?” I repeated, my voice a low, dangerous whisper. “Let me tell you something about promises.” I straightened up, false promises made by men ringing in my head and my eyes never leaving his. “A promise is a tool. A weapon. Something to give hope to the hopeless and manipulate the desperate. It’s the leash that keeps dogs like you from biting until the master decides it’s time to put you down.”

Don't let a kid's promise hold you back. I kept silent as Allie's soft words slowly sunk in. I didn't want to admit it, but she was right. I was just afraid to let go of the one thing that I'd been holding on as a hope that he'd come for me. I feared that if I let go of this promise, there would be no ties between us, every moment we spent would be vanished in thin air, like it never happened in the first place.

He shook his head, scooting closer to her. “Please promise me you’ll understand,” She sniffed and looked away. “I will understand you the same way you’ve understood me,” He placed his hand on top of hers. “Kai…” She licked her lips, tears rolling down her cheeks.