Win The Day Novels & Stories

They looked perfect, hot and fresh, and so tempting. How could these people be hungry with so much on offer? I assumed they must be homeless or addicts, unable to purchase anything. But why torture yourself? You couldn’t stop hunger on scent alone. I fumbled in my pocket. I had a few pounds left that I hadn’t put in my wallet. Depending on the prices, I decided I could do my good deed for the day and help them out. As I approached, I saw five people. Two women stood near the stall, and another sat hunched on an old stool. Further, in the shadows, a male figure slumped, gazing wistfully at a cracked glass half filled with water.

He reached back in and brought out a box which he opened for me to see the largest, juiciest, most decadent chocolate-covered strawberries a girl could imagine. Thinking back on that day, it really ought to have been the best day ever. But there were so many more days to come—word of advice: never sell yourself short on your best day ever. Keep looking for that next best day and living for the future rather than reliving the past as your only good day. I still had a wedding to plan for and a whole life with this adorable, loving, romantic man.

My father lifted his glass. "To a better year," he said. I looked at the two of them, then at the city beyond the glass. London was waiting for me. Work was waiting. Friends, meetings, unread books, mornings I had not lived yet. A life that did not ask me to prove my worth by how much I could endure. I touched my glass to theirs. "To a full one," I said. And when the new year arrived, I did not look back.

As her eyes scanned it, she gasped. "What’s wrong, Callista?" I asked, wondering why she had gasped like that. "Today is Game Day!" she shouted, her voice bubbling with excitement. "Game... Day?" I repeated, still not understanding. "Yes! The game is always held once every month. The team who wins gets to demand whatever they want. Though we witches don't always win, it's always so exciting to participate," she grinned excitedly.

He always asked Alex first, though, and just with that simple gesture, Alex knew Win wasn't using him for his money. "I know, Alex," Win said. "I didn't see anything I wanted today," he sighed dramatically. "Today, the Gucci store was closed," he sighed dramatically. Alex chuckled and kissed his boyfriend again. "Now tell me, how was your day?" Win asked him when the kiss ended.

POV Alex She had accepted; she was our mate; the vow had been spoken. Sure, she wasn’t marked yet, but that was just a formality. I never thought I’d feel such happiness. I wanted to shout for joy. Unable to contain myself, I lifted her into my arms and spun her around, making her laugh out loud. Her laughter went straight to my heart, like a ray of sunshine warming my face. I set her back down and kissed the tip of her nose. Alex: "Come on, my love—let’s talk about the legends, then hit the library. But early to bed; you’ve got school tomorrow."

Shane said and I shook my head. “So what happens if I win?” I asked them. “Nobody ever wins,” Shawn said. “It’s better to just lose that first fight and still be able to walk away,” Henry said. “So are we all fighting on Friday night?” I asked. “Yeah, every first Friday of the month,” Malcolm said. “One day I’d like to kick Coach’s ass,” Will said and we all laughed. “Don’t we all,” Carl mused.

She would no longer have to keep waiting. She would no longer watch another woman live in the home where she believed should have belonged to her. She smiled, convinced that she was winning after all. She picked up her phone again and looked at the picture she had taken with Daniel at the event. Her smile returned. "Almost," she whispered. “I’m almost there.”

"But something that pushes your boundaries." I swallowed, both nervous and intrigued. "And if I win?" "Name your prize." I thought for a moment. "If I win, you have to take a full day off work. No calls, no emails, no meetings. Just whatever I want to do all day." "That's it?" Alexander asked, clearly expecting something more salacious. "That's it," I confirmed. "Watching you try to function without working will be entertainment enough." He extended his hand. "Deal."

Before Lily's surgery, the nurse slid the consent form across to me. I called my husband, Ethan Reid, eleven times. When the twelfth call finally connected, the first voice I heard was his first love, Claire Bennett, on the verge of tears: "Ethan, the zipper on my wedding dress is stuck. Don't leave yet." I looked at my daughter, white with pain in the hospital bed, and said, "Lily's waiting for you." Ethan was silent for two seconds before saying, "Just sign it. I'll get there later." Later, Lily studied the lone guardian's signature on the form and asked, "Mom, can I leave Dad off the school forms from now on?" I said she could. From that day on, she stopped leaving room for Ethan anywhere