Unbowed A Memoir Novels & Stories

Irritated, I pushed the door open with a chill in my movement, and the laughter cut off like a snapped string. A nagging discomfort lingered in my heart even after I got my revenge. Rebecca kept up her devoted care for me and my daughter, but I could no longer look her in the eye. I acted as if I had forgotten, ignoring the sorrow that clouded her gaze. Rebecca's life revolved around home and her love for swimming. I found her background as a pearl diver embarrassing. After a few harsh words from me, her eyes brimmed with tears, and she never swam again.

he says, in a low and husky voice. I feel a shiver run down my spine as memories come flooding back. I thought I'd closed the door on this chapter of my life, but now it's staring me straight in the face. I glance at Ethan, who's watching me with a hopeful expression. Does he think I'll just forgive and forget? I'm biting my tongue, refraining from unleashing my anger on Ethan, only because he's been a decent friend to me despite Maxwell's horrific treatment. Ethan has never hesitated to call out Maxwell's wrongdoings, and for that, I'm grateful.

I knew he would be disappointed I hadn’t given the mate bond a chance. That’s when the memory hit me full force. I hadn’t given the mate bond a chance. I had rejected them! Fuck! I had never wanted to accept the mate bond, but the reality of rejecting them hit me like a freight train. There were consequences for rejecting a mate. And I had gone and done it out of anger and embarrassment, totally unprepared to face those consequences.

What was she doing here? "I'm so sorry, I didn't think our bathrooms would be connected." She apologised still keeping her eyes closed, but the image that she had seen before never once leaving her memories. She was turned on and she felt so pathetic, I guess that's how inexperienced and innocent she was. Although her friends would disagree on that, she couldn't help but feel embarrassed.

"You never owed me anything in the first place. I'm just very grateful to you." She had shown me that there was more to life than what I was used to. When we parted ways, Ingrid asked me if I had been doing well lately. I asked her in return, "What about you?" She answered with a smile, "Not too shabby. You?" I smiled too. "Better than ever before." … I booked the earliest flight out of Novington. To my surprise, Corbin somehow managed to find me right before I was about to board the plane.

It was raw and vulnerable, stripped of the armor he always carried around. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know you’re tired of hearing it. I know it doesn’t fix anything.” He exhaled. “But I am on my knees, Miriam. I am begging you. Please hear me out.”

Life-altering. The second was from a New York publishing house. They had read her UN speech. They had followed her interviews. And now, they wanted her story—raw, unfiltered, written in her own voice. Her memoir. Not as a product or campaign piece, but as an act of truth-telling. No ghostwriter. No one else’s words. Just hers. Just everything she had been too afraid to say before.

"You're wrong about something. Let me remind you—I am the kingpin of Newark City." When the lights at the operating table were flicked on, memories from a decade ago came rushing back to me. That was when Evan was still a broke student. I remembered the way he would starve for three months, all so he could save money to buy a birthday present from me. I remembered the way the sleeves of his shirt faded from washing and how the hem became frayed. On New Year's Eve, he brought me a cake he made himself. He waited for me well into midnight despite the cold, and when he finally saw me, the first thing he said was whether I felt cold.

I didn’t want to disgrace myself, and I didn’t want to disgrace my family. It felt like drowning. Like a giant hand was holding me underwater. When I obeyed, the hand loosened. When I disobeyed, it pushed me down again. I betrayed myself. I betrayed all the suffering I had endured. I was weak. I had never been to school. No one had ever taught me how to live, how to stand up for myself, or how to be brave. I was just a pathetic “Bunny Girl,” returning to a mansion I once thought was paradise. I believed I had been saved. I thought I had found redemption.