Romans & histoires Three Days Of Happiness

“How long have I been out?” “Just three days. You’ll be fine, they tell me. I’m so happy for you.” He did, in fact, look almost gleeful, which told me the information I was seeking was going to be very bad indeed.

He must be sleeping, I thought. I started talking, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to hear me and argue with me. “You know, you’re such a bad person.” I started off. I looked at him once again and saw that he still had no reaction. I continued. “I think I was happy only thrice in my entire life." "Is that sad? That I feel like I’ve only felt happiness for three times in my entire 17 years of existence?” “It probably is.” I laughed to myself. “But because the feeling of happiness only came so little, I remembered each and every detail of those events that elicited it. And I keep on looking forward to the next time that I’d be able to feel it again."

I handed her the itinerary for tonight's pack event and walked out of the hall without a second glance. After all, Blake and I were just bonded by a three-year contract. And now that it was ending and he'd found someone else to take my place, I felt nothing but relief. Back at the house we shared, I started packing. Three years had gone by in a blur. I stared at the wall covered in photos from the past 18 pack events I'd planned. I felt a little dazed. I was Blake's fated mate, but he never wanted me. For the sake of the pack's stability, he made a three-year agreement with me.

“And it won’t be the last one. I promise.” My heart felt so full it could burst. Three more days of peace. Three more days of him. I was the luckiest girl in the world.

Three Years Later THANE'S POV: They say perfection doesn't exist in this world, that happiness is always borrowed, never owned. For three years, I'd proven them wrong. Three years of waking up to Madison's sleepy smile and the knowledge that this incredible woman had chosen me—scared, broken, fighting-my-way-back-from-hell me. Three years of learning that love wasn't just the grand gestures or the passionate moments, but the quiet mornings sharing coffee, the late-night conversations about everything and nothing, the way she still looked at me like I hung the moon even when I was at my worst.

“I really want to see you. Talking to you puts me at ease.” “What’s the matter this time around?” She asked. “John wants us to go on a three-day trip. Just the three of us. Who knows what he’s planning? What would I be doing with him for three days? Where would we go? Where would we sleep? Talking to him alone is suffocating! And annoying!” I poured out, breathing hard, and Dahlia sighed. “Well, all we have to do is pray for three days to go by quickly.” “You know three days will never go by quickly. Let’s say Lucas and I went on a trip, then three days is no biggie, but me and John? Three days will feel like three months!” I exclaimed.

“If I get to pick the three days.” My blood instantly turned cold. One of the reasons I settled on the three days was to hope it would fall on the weekend. “And which days are those?” I asked, shoulders tightening. Zane shrugged. “They aren’t set. Could be Monday to Wednesday one week, could be another day next week.” I froze. Great. Now, I’d be crossing my fingers, holding my breath begging it wouldn’t fall on the days I didn’t want it to. And I’ll be doing this. Every. Single. Week.

The celebration lasted three days. Three days of laughter and tears, of reunions and introductions, of stories shared between souls who'd spent millennia apart. The ruins of the abandoned city had transformed into something beautiful—strangers becoming family, former prisoners becoming friends, the network humming with joy that transcended language.

Third Person Pov “There’s apparently good food,” he added. “And I looked up the area around the hotel. It’s near the waterfront.” She considered this. It was a reasonable enough explanation for a man who, when he wasn’t buried under work, occasionally remembered that he was a person who existed outside of screens and meeting rooms. “Three days?” she said. “Back Sunday.” She nodded, and turned back to her work, and did not think much more about it. But she did feel something, later, the particular freedom of three days in this house alone, three days without the sharing space with someone you were no longer really trying to get close to. It was something more like recognition.

I turned back to look at them again and again as I walked away. For a brief moment, it felt as if I could see the Wendy of my past life standing among the crowd, waving at me. Her lips moved, as though she were saying something. "This time, make sure you find true happiness!" I nodded silently to myself. I knew I would.