Why Do We Feel Nostalgia Novels & Stories

My little sister, Maya, got into a car crash. I put her in a high-end recovery center. Her injuries were bad. Progress crawled. They kept extending her treatment, one phase at a time. Early this morning, the manager called. Said the card wouldn't cover the next phase. That's when it hit me—peak season at the company. I'd been slammed, barely breathing. I hadn't topped it up in forever. I told her I'd transfer the money. She shut it down. Said I had to show up and sign in person before they'd extend anything. So after work, I rushed over. Straight into rush hour traffic. Then she called again. "Ms. Keyne, your balance hit zero three minutes ago. We're terminating services. This is a premium facility—we don't do free care. The patient tied to your account has been removed per policy."

‘Why are the tastiest apples always forbidden? Why do we have to sacrifice our love because our parents got engaged?’ These questions rushed through my mind as he kissed me deeply, pinning me against the wall. I knew that after this, he would say cruel things to me with those same lips, but I couldn't resist him. I loved him but I hated myself for loving him. “Marcus, please. We can't keep doing this.” I begged. But as usual, he ignored my pleas and continued in his caresses, making me want him more. We were lost in our forbidden desires once again, not realizing that the door was left unlocked. Why does my stepbrother keep seducing me? What if our parents discover our secret affair?

During Black Friday, the intelligent system I develop helps the company run highly targeted ads and brings in 30 million dollars in revenue. But when I apply for the project bonus, the director rejects it. "The system is just an auxiliary tool. The performance belongs to the sales department." I hold back my frustration and pull up the system logs. "88% of the orders come from the system's targeted pushes. According to company policy, I should receive a 0.5% commission." The director glances at me, twirling his pen. "If the sales commission doesn't go to the sales department, should it go to you? And your lousy system exceeds the API limit and racks up extra fees. You still owe us a hundred thousand dollars. We'll deduct that from your salary." Three days before Christmas sales are set to begin, the system completely shuts down because of API restrictions. Late at night, the director calls me. I stare at my computer screen. "Since the system is just an auxiliary tool, why don't you start with manual targeting?"

My mother was asking me and my sister to choose the man we wanted to marry. My sister, surprisingly, did not choose the gloomy STEM student she spent four years pursuing. Instead, she went for the rich but infamous playboy. Shock colored my mother's face. "I know he's rich, Joan, but what if you get all known and unknown STDs? I thought you loved Gil. Are you sure you're making the right choice?" That did not sway my sister's mind. That alone told me what I had been suspecting all along. Like me, my sister was reincarnated. In our previous lives, she happily married Gilbert Terrason, but he left her on read for ten long years. His cold treatment drove her a little gaga. That playboy, however, stopped his philandering lifestyle for me and loved me like his life depended on it. He gave me all his riches, and we became the model couple everyone wouldn't stop talking about. Then, it happened during the ball. On my tenth wedding anniversary, my sister, consumed by rage, burned us into cinders. Here we were, on our second chance in life. This time, I took Gilbert's hand. "No takebacks, Joan. Don't try to do a third take." My sister snickered. "As to you. This time, all the love in the world is coming to me." Ah, yes, love. Joan still did not get it. Love was the most unreliable element in any marriage.

I had been Silas Sterling's mate for seven years. We decided to get tattoos of each other's names. This was a Binding Tattoo that represented eternal love in the Moonstone Wolf pack. It had the power to bind mates eternally. When I got the tattoo, I realized the malicious words 'Public Male Amenity' had been tattooed on my chest. It chilled me to the bone. My adopted sister, Greta Pound, was the one who tattooed me. She covered her mouth as she laughed. "Don't you always enjoy attracting the attention of all the male werewolves by dressing so skimpily in the pack, Freya? I'm just helping you to publicize this." Greta was a female werewolf I had saved. Why was she treating me this way when I treated her like my sister? I grabbed her hair angrily, but Silas pushed me violently to the side as he pulled Greta protectively into his arms. He frowned as he berated me unhappily, "Greta was just joking with you. Why are you so mad about it?" I stared at his bare chest where my name should be tattooed. However, the name 'Greta' was there instead. She looked up at me from Silas' arms and smiled innocently yet tauntingly at me. "Silas said our names rhymed, Freya, so I played a joke by tattooing my name on him. You aren't mad about this, are you?"

My husband, Zeke Larson, rushed to the police station at night because his childhood sweetheart, Snow Lowell, had run over my father-in-law and killed him. Snow clutched Zeke’s jacket and trembled in fear. “Zeke, I’m so scared. I didn’t mean to kill anyone.” Zeke pulled her into his arms at once and glared at me like he wanted to kill me. “You were in the car too. Why didn’t you stop her?” I almost laughed. He was the one who insisted that Snow drive. He said she had just gotten her license and needed more practice, so he pushed her to take his car and give me a ride. “Forget it. He’s already dead. There’s no point arguing now. “We’ll just say your dad ran into the road without looking, and that’s how Snow hit him. “We can settle this privately. Snow has a performance in Vienne next month. She can’t have a stain on her record.” I froze for a moment. When he repeated himself, I finally realized that he thought the person who died was my father. I looked at Zeke and saw how natural it all seemed to him. I could not help but laugh. “This is not a private settlement I have the right to be part of.”

I grew up alongside another vampire noble heir, Kael. Because of an important alliance between our families,we were betrothed when we were very young. For as long as I can remember, Kael was my protector. He was loyal to me. From childhood, he treated me as his future wife. I believed we would stay together forever. Until the day he brought a human blood servant before me. “Elena. I am calling off the engagement. The one I have always loved is Sylvia.” I refused to accept it. I would not believe he had stopped loving me. In the end, our parents resolved everything for us. Kael returned to my side. I never imagined the truth, that he married me only for revenge. The human blood servant who was said to be dead was secretly brought back to life, while my life was drained away to make it happen. She even bore him twins. As for the children I carried for him, he had already killed it. He replaced it with the half blood twins born of that human woman. He killed me with a cross. And watched as my life faded away. After my death, my family was framed by him. Every last one of them was slaughtered. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day he asked to cancel our engagement. This time, I smiled. I agreed. And chose to walk out of his world. But when I came home to marry the man I truly loved, Kael appeared at my wedding. “Elena,” he asked, his voice breaking, “why don’t you love me anymore?”

I fall for Asher Kline, the son of Mom and Dad's sworn enemy, and chase him for three years. When we finally start dating, our private life becomes full of debauchery. From tents and luxury cars to lounges and studies, any place that offers privacy and a thrill becomes ours. We push into every advanced position we can manage, filming plenty of steamy videos along the way. Then one day, I overhear him chatting with his best friend. "Aren't you taking it too far, using Rhea to get back at her parents? Maybe you should drop it and find another way." "No. I'm sticking with it. When the time comes, I'll leak those videos of us. Those two old farts will be so furious that they'll choke on their own rage. That's exactly what I want." "But you've been with her so long. Don't you feel anything for her?" "No. I only approached her to get revenge and destroy her family's company." I'm crushed when I realize his so-called love is filled with nothing but payback and scheming. But when I walk away and am about to marry someone else, he falls apart and begs me to forgive him.

When I'm making a delivery, I receive a phone call from the bank all of a sudden. "Ms. Emily Sutton, we found out that your bank card with 7985 as your last four digits has made a withdrawal of five million dollars this morning. Are you in urgent need of money?" I pause in climbing the stairs. "Five million dollars?" The employee says yes before proceeding to repeat my bank card number. The bank card with 7985 as the last four digits is really my bank card. But the thing is, there isn't a single cent stored in that account. I feel my hands starting to tremble slightly. When I'm about to ask the bank employee what's going on, I happen to spot my husband, Marcus Wilde, walking into a real estate office a short distance away.

On the company's designated monthly day off, Gigi Lott, Donald Hoover's secretary, posted an Instagram story. The caption read, "So what if you're the boss of me when we're at work during the day? At night, I'm the one on top!" In the photo, she was lying atop a water bed covered in rose petals, and the usually stern Donald was kneeling down to massage her feet for her. From his pocket hung a brand new golden necklace. Just that morning, I bought several gold bars and gave them to Donald while beseeching him to make our relationship public. He happily took the locket from me, but when I tried to take a photo of us with our phone, he smacked my phone out of my hands, smashing it into pieces. With a look of pure derision, he declared, "Why don't you take a good look at yourself in the mirror first? You really are a motherless wretch who wasn't raised right. Look at the lengths you'd go to just to ruin me!" Throughout the last five years, I had meekly gone along with his demand that we keep our relationship a secret, claiming it was because office romances were forbidden. But now, I was abruptly hit with the realization of how laughable it all was. The next day, I sent my father a message. "I admit defeat. I'm willing to come home and inherit the family business."