Untold Love Novels & Stories

I started my new cycle of studies, at the university I tried to avoid Anabel and Cristián, I did not want to see them again in my life, she because he would make my life impossible and he because he lied to me when he told me that he loved me and that he would never leave me, but that promise was broken. "Hey little one," I hear someone call me as I made my way to my classroom. "Oh, hi Marcos," I greet him when I turn around and see that it was him, "how are you?"

Maybe none of their females had any tattoos because they seemed startled by mine. What I didn't notice was any judgment or ridicule in their expressions, only care, and concern. Their overt love washed over me, warming me to the core. But then I remembered the truth. They were showing love to their Luna-which I was not. A sharp pain stabbed in my heart. I brushed it away. I couldn't focus on what would happen at the end...when I left. If I did, I wouldn't be able to get through the next four weeks. Instead, I focused on Leander.

“She’s also a famous novel writer and an environmental journalist before she died. But Emmerson didn’t show any interest to her because he’s rich and famous, and even the heirs of Rafique Oil Company.“ Full of bitterness as she stopped telling the story to Dennise. “To cut it short, she fell in love with Emmerson Rafique? That’s why she broke up with Gabby? Darn it!“ Dennise felt bad about Jade. “Yes, she broke up with kuya Gab, as soon as she confirmed to herself that she felt love for Emmerson so that she can freely run after him. “ “It’s unrequited love friendship, but he didn’t give up his love for her. After she left him, she started running and waiting for Emmerson.“ He’s running out

A part of her broke the moment he agreed. She got up from the bed and started packing her things. She paused for a moment at the nightstand. With tears streaming down her face, she looked at the box of chocolates and the bouquet lying on top of it. It wasn’t the love or the memories she regretted—but her helplessness to fight fate. A thin, invisible line had always separated them. One she tried to make clearer, but now felt like it was fading. "Thank you… for all the love you gave me," she whispered at the bathroom door. "I really love you. But I won’t hold you back. If time rewound, I’d still choose to love you, Uncle."

Your greatest love. What in the ever-loving crap? What is this shit? What the hell is going on, I look around to see if I notice if anyone is watching me and Hannah as we read this note that was mysteriously left in my locker. Never in my life would I have thought I would have an admirer. What am I going to do? I can’t deal with this shit right now. I have Jasmine and her posse on top of Keegan and his friends trying to make my life hell.

Angelina's POV - It's the season of winter and snowfall isn't a exception. I actually love snowfall but sometimes I also hate it, like now because I have to clear all the snow from the front door. This is the story of every winter where my parents never help me out, its just that they order me to clean it up.

After the girls. After the messages. After learning his world. I exhaled shakily. That was the warning. That was the first time love tried to show me who Josh was. Not cruel. Not evil. Just unfinished. Still carrying other people into new beginnings. I hugged my knees. I didn’t see it then. Or maybe I saw it and chose comfort over clarity. Now, after watching his world, his friends, his habits, his appetite for many hearts, that old conversation finally made sense.

Young boys and girls were already dreaming on those pitches—some perhaps hiding their own truths, others inspired by the openly gay couple who had lifted the trophy together, married under the lights, and built a life of unapologetic love. Martin and Damien eventually moved to their bedroom, bodies entwined under cool sheets. The lovemaking that followed was slow and intimate, a celebration of survival and joy. Every touch carried memory: the first stolen kiss in college, the desperate passion after the championship win, the tender reconnection after Lila’s birth. They fell asleep wrapped around each other, rings catching the moonlight filtering through the curtains.

And I hated that I wasn’t. When the new drink arrived, I just stared at it. Didn’t drink. Didn’t talk. Just listened to the noise until it started to blur. Max broke the silence first. “You know, if you ever need to talk—” “I don’t,” I said automatically. He raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, Mr. Untouchable.” “Not untouchable,” I muttered. “Just… not sure who I want touching.” He snorted. “That sounds like a crisis.”

Unfolded it standing there in the middle of my room with the grey morning light doing its best around me. Love is coming. And the date. Tomorrow. I stared at it. Not with excitement. Not with the same unsettled feeling from yesterday. I stared at it the way you stare at something that belongs to a different version of your life. A version that had not yet received a finance email or an eviction notice or stood outside a food stall doing brutal mathematics with coins that did not add up. I folded the note back. Put it in my pocket. Picked up my bag and my books.