What Is Valentine's Novels & Stories

Valentine “Hi, Nick. It’s me, Valentine, again. It’s been three weeks since you haven’t returned any of my calls. I’m just worried that something bad happened to you. I’ve been visiting you every day, but your mom and sister always tell me that you went out. I just think we really need to talk, you know. Please call me back.”

On Valentine’s Day, Ethan Scott had a last-minute social engagement and left me home alone. Late at night, I received a message from him, telling me to meet him at a bar. Thinking he had finally remembered me, I rushed out the door, eager to see him. But when I came to the door of the private lounge, the scene before me froze me in place. Taylor Winston straddled Ethan’s lap, her silk camisole slipping from her shoulders, the straps barely clinging to her elbows.

”I don't celebrate Valentine's, Rhea, you know that. “Oh, come on. It's a great day. There's love in the air, romance on the horizon, what's not to love?” “It’s just like every other regular day but with pretentious couples that are probably cheating on each other acting like horny teenagers that think they are in love,” She snorted. “Wow, you really know how to light up a room,” she said dryly. “I just speak the truth, that's why I only have three friends.” “You know, just because your ex cheated on you on Valentine's Day doesn't mean you should hate the holiday!’

"Alpha." "Valentine," Vaela says, gesturing toward me. "Fiorenca." "Frankie," I correct automatically. Vaela clicks her tongue. "That is not your name." "It really is." Valentine beams, she's been handed a new puppy, she lunges forward. Her arms pull me in an enthusiastic hug. I'm struck by how genuine she is, there isn't a single sharp edge hiding underneath her warmth. I've spent enough time with shitty ass people to know kindness is often transactional. Valentine's isn't. The empathy pouring off her feels limitless. It almost hurts.

He also said I needed to stay in a good mood, be careful with my diet and medication, and take good care of myself. Next to the medical report were two plane tickets for a seven-day trip to Isvalia. I initially planned to tell her on Valentine's Day, so I could relax with her before the surgery. Now, that was no longer needed. Nancy rushed back with the first-aid kit and rifled through it a few times before stopping. "Where's the ointment? Did you…" She cut herself off halfway through. I caught the fleeting expression on her face—guilt mixed with a hint of unease.

Still unwilling to stop, he gave my body one last vicious squeeze before rolling off me in frustration. The next second, Calvin suddenly began to sob. "Quinn, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" He cried as he trembled, gently stroking my cheek. "I really love you. I can't bear to let you go. "But I have no choice. I really don't." I forced down the humiliation and rage, keeping my voice as gentle as I could. "What happened?" Calvin sniffed. His face was full of sorrow and false devotion. "Quinn, you're too beautiful. You're perfect.

I ask them, confused because everyone seems to be clued in to what's happening except for me. “Saturday is Valentine's Day,” Nortica explains in a tiny voice. “Oh,” I shamefully exclaim, feeling the heat. Shit, it's now Wednesday and I've got nothing planned for what's considered the most romantic day of the year. “I’m not expecting anything,” Nortica whispers to me, which makes me feel even worse. For me, Valentine’s Day has become a day where I take some sad, lonely woman back to the penthouse to fuck. It was effortless, the bar was filled with offerings and I only had to do the bare minimum to get rewarded.

“February the fourteenth. What’s special about today?” Serenity inquired before it hit her. Curling her lips, she answered, “Oh, Valentine’s Day. I don’t have any concept of special occasions. Every day is Valentine’s Day to us when we’re in a good place in our relationship. Valentine’s Day means nothing if we don’t get along.” “I knew you won’t pay any mind to special occasions. Your husband must be the same. I don’t see him having anything planned yet.” “Did Mr. Bucham do anything for you?”

It was February 14th and The Grand Ballroom of The Valentino Grand Hotel was decorated with red and white ribbons and balloons floating in the air. The room looked like a sea of crimson and gold, a cathedral of wealth built to honor the day. Of course! It’s Valentine’s Day… the very day Julian Valentino loathed with every fiber of his being. But to the elites of Manhattan and the hotel's stake holders,it was a night of pure romance, while to Julian, it was a reminder of a betrayal that had turned his heart into ice.

“My name’s Valerie, and all girls inside this room were the ones whose heart was broken by Valentine.” “I know,” Of course I know her; she’s the last girl I saw having some public display of affection with Valentine a few weeks ago. “Seriously?” I asked wide-eyed. Jesus, Valentine was a legend, and yes, I hate him. I hate every cell and membrane that composes the very him. I might as well join this club for the thing that they stand for, but I have some stalking plans. “Yes, we’re all thirty in total, some are just absent,” Valerie said confidently. A part of my curiosity was wondering how all of these girls found each other. Are they even sure that Valentine really did break their hearts?