You Matter Book Novels & Stories

I said against his shoulder, "I don't feel like nothing. That's why I keep coming back. It's not the sex or the danger or even how right it feels when everything says it should feel wrong. I keep coming back because you look at me like I'm real. Like I matter. And I've never had that from anyone." "You matter." His voice was thick with everything he was trying not to cry. "You're the only thing in this pack house that matters and I would burn every alliance and every treaty and every bridge I've spent eight years building if it meant I could walk you through the front door instead of sneaking you through a passage in the dark."

Dante took a deep breath. His chest ached with the weight of everything he wanted to say. He had promised himself he wouldn’t do this, that he wouldn’t cross the line, but here he was, standing on the edge of something irreversible. “You matter to me,” Dante said. More than you probably realize. When you walk into a room, everything shifts. You make things better just by being there. And I…. His voice wavered. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone before.

Nothing more. Snapping my mind away from that tiny, negligible detail, I read the message yet again. 'If you ever wonder whether you mattered, yes. More than you know.' My lips pull until I feel the resulting strain on my facial muscles. I rub my fingertips along the written letters, almost as if doing so would allow them to sip into my bloodstream. The writing is nothing showy, just dark blue ink pressed onto paper using a ballpoint. Nothing special, no extra effort put into penning the message, but the content of the letter pays for the lack of effort a dozen times over.

Her friends were scattered throughout the room. She took a deep breath. "Thank you all for coming," she said. "This book started as a journal. A way for me to make sense of everything that had happened. The auction. The collar. The fear. The love. I never thought anyone would read it. I never thought it would matter to anyone but me." She paused. Her voice cracked. "But it does matter. Because your stories matter. Your fears matter. Your hopes matter. You matter." The crowd applauded.

I simply wondered, the way I think most people wonder, whether my life would matter to anyone, beyond the small circle of people who happened to know me. *I want you to know that everything that came after, the rooms, the network, the council, all of it, started from that question. Not from ambition. From a quiet, private wondering, the kind that most people carry and never speak aloud, about whether they matter.* *I found my answer slowly, over decades. The answer was yes. Not because of anything special about me. Because I decided, one room at a time, to act as though the answer was yes, and the acting itself, repeated enough times, by enough people, eventually made it true, not just for m

"There is no exact reason, want to be friends with someone also need a reason?" "Others say this will definitely believe. But the status we have now makes me not think so. My mother said, those who try to approach me, are all people with a special purpose. So, what is your purpose, Brian Matthew? " Adela stood up, she used her eyes from above to look down at Brian sitting in front of her. Brian Matthew seemed to be surprised for a few seconds. He probably didn't think Adela would directly ask him this question. She is really naive! It was an exclamation that he thought of and dared to assert in his mind when he looked at her for a second time.

“ It’s nothing. Just a library book I checked out. By accident. Just a silly mistake.“ Now that was the understatement of the century. “A silly mistake, my behind,” Edith cackled. “The Kama Sutra. The Joy of Sex. Dating for Dummies. The Multi-Orgasmic Couple. The Girlfriend's Guide to Great Sex.” Edith pointed to each of the books as she listed off the titles. Picking up the books, Mattie said, “This is my business. My personal, private business.” “Poppycock.” Edith stood, hands on her generous hips, blocking the door. “If you wanted this to be private, you wouldn’t have brought those books here.“

--- Country M. The tension in the room was thick as one of the mafia bosses in Country M slammed his hands on his desk upon hearing the unsettling report. He really wanted to catch them and turn them into his, but they just vanished. This will affect his plan greatly. His eyes narrowed into a glare as he turned his gaze towards the person standing before him, his expression a mix of frustration and anger. "All of their and our key operatives have disappeared?" he demanded, his voice laced with barely contained fury. "And no one knows if there are any operatives left in the country."

Brooklyn said, sitting at the table where her laptop and notebook sat. Kendall pulled out a chair and sat down. “What’s up?” Brooklyn asked, shutting her laptop. “I did a reading today,” Kendall said, taking out her notebook, “and it’s got me a little worried.” Frowning, Brooklyn said, “What did the cards say?” Opening her notebook, Kendall looked at her notes. “It’s saying something about heartbreak, danger, and loss,” she said. Shea paused in her chopping to say, “That doesn’t sound good.”