Thirteen Fifty Novels & Stories

She covered her nose and walked back into the house, pointing the camera inside. "Look. Miles has turned the house into a landfill. "I want to bring him back too, but look at how filthy he is. How am I supposed to bring him home like this?" I felt terribly wronged and muttered stiffly, "I'm not filthy." What can a five-year-old do? I've been dead for five years, and you still don't know. "Let me see Brother's house! I want to see!" A bright, lively voice came from the video. An eight-year-old boy in a little suit appeared on the screen, looking like a small prince.

Luke is a billionaire to stay faithful to his wife at home and he's surely missing out on the worldly fun. "Jessica, how are you doing? Look at my handsome grandson, Caleb. He looks so much like his father," Mrs. Rita Andrews spoke as she stood up from the executive black couch in the extravagant living room. Jessica paused in front of her mother and aunt and greeted the two elderly women, "Good afternoon, Mom, Aunt." "Jessica," Mrs. Rita hugged Jessica first, and she pulled away from the hug gently and caressed Jessica's face. She said, "You look so beautiful, what's going on? Why do you look sad?"

Since things can't go back, she might as well keep playing the good wife and build herself a perfect reputation. 'Come on, girls. Sarah won't get much money even if he dies. The Fleming elders transferred most of their assets long ago.' At that moment, a message in bold font appeared in the chat room. 'Friends, I have inside information. There's an offshore trust fund worth thirty billion under Jesse's name. He's the only person who knows the one-time password. Every wrong attempt burns ten percent of the funds.' I paused at the revelation. 'Thirty billion, they say?'

Her beautiful face, her sexy body, and her flawless white skin mesmerized him. His face suddenly turned sad when he saw the date of her birth. “December 6th,” he silenced for a moment, “Today is her birthday.” Regret filled his heart and mind. He felt sorry that he had done something bad for her on her birthday. ****** Angela's POV I was lying on the bed in my apartment room. This place is old and doesn't look good at all. I don't have the money to rent a better place. It had continued to snow since morning. This room feels so cold. My body is shaking under the blanket.

He was off on a film set with Renee. She'd called him, desperate, telling him she felt awful. His response? The same as always. "Wait for me. I'll be back soon." He didn't come back until the fever had already broken. It was always like that. Broken promises, over and over, until all the letdowns blurred together. After one brutal fight, he swore he'd change. Promised he wouldn't leave her for Renee again. She'd given him five chances. This was the fifth.

“Girl, you just broke the internet and the age barrier.” Rory wiped his brow. “My blood pressure ain’t built for press conferences.” Theo was already posting clips. “Hashtag TheFifthVow is trending! Ma, you’re literally the face of romantic resilience.” “Lord, help me,” Ava said, collapsing into a chair. Marcus crouched beside her. “You okay?” She nodded slowly. “You know what’s funny? I thought being seventy meant people stopped talkin’ about you.” “Turns out,” he said, “they were just waiting for the good part.”

It was my fifth year of marriage to Julian. For the previous four Christmases, I was not able to spend the holiday with my parents even once. The Carter family had always believed that since I had married into their family, I should spend the holidays with them. This year, I finally decided I was not going to give in anymore. "I want to spend Christmas with my parents." Julian did not even look up. "I need to be with my family too." His tone was as casual as if he were discussing the weather. "If you want to go, then go by yourself."

The safe distance between us vanished in an instant, and the faint scent of her perfume surrounded me. My breathing nearly stopped. As our eyes met, the fragile tension that had existed between us for years finally lay exposed. "Nathan, it's been four years. Don't you think it's time you gave me an answer?" I tried to push her away, but Fiona didn't move an inch. "Move back first." She pressed her lips together. "You're going to tell me 'next time' again, aren't you?" My face grew hot. Looking at her, it felt as though all the courage I'd been holding back suddenly burst free. I leaned forward and kissed her.

“Mom keeps the thermostat low to save the planet. Or punish us. Jury’s out.” They sat in companionable quiet, flames popping, snow tapping the windows. The silence wasn’t empty, it was full of small victories: surviving exams, a three-hour ride without awkwardness, grilled cheese that didn’t burn. Sudan’s head tipped back against the cushions. “Your mom’s note said there’s a cat.” “Somewhere,” Zach said. “Probably plotting world domination from the laundry room.” Sudan laughed, low and surprised, like he hadn’t meant to let it out.

We didn’t just want to build a clinic; we wanted to create real change. As I glanced at Mrs. Narti’s dimly lit house next door, a question suddenly popped into my mind that had been swirling around without an answer. “Julien, Ratna said she’s seven years old, right?” I furrowed my brow, trying to formulate my words. “But Mrs. Narti looks… well, she’s probably over fifty. I’m just… curious. I mean, why at that age does she still have such a small child?”