You Never Knew Me Novel Novels & Stories

I wasn’t brave. I was just Novah. The girl who didn’t know when to stop loving people who would never love her back. And maybe… that’s all I’d ever be.

To all my readers, I like to inform you all that this will be the end of " He was never mine." I hope that I met your demands and gave you guys the closure you needed from the story. Writing this novel was a lot for me because I had to put myself in various emotional states to capture the character's feelings that I have never experienced before, (It was tough." But I'm glad you guys stuck with this novel because knowing you all were waiting on updates and stuff truly inspired me to keep pushing through and continue writing.

This is different. "This is just me." "I don't know how to write to someone I have never met who is also the person I know best in the world. You are both of those things. I knew you from the moment you existed — and I lost you before you were old enough to know me. So I am writing to a stranger who is also my daughter, and I'm going to do my best. "I want to tell you about the night of the fire. "Not the part you saw — the ring, the man went the wrong way, the detail your mother wrote down the next morning. You know that part. I want to tell you about the part before. About why I went back in.

The part of a person that simply cannot rest when a question this large goes unanswered. I didn't know who I was. I had a face I couldn't see. A name with nothing attached to it. Somewhere in the world there were people who knew me, maybe, or there weren't, and I had no way of telling which was worse. The not knowing sat in me like a stone in still water. Permanent. Heavy. Changing the shape of everything around it. My wolf pressed against my sternum. I stood up. The study was on the upper floor, east corridor, third door. I knew because the house had its own geography and I had memorised it the way I memorised everything. By feel. By sound. By the way certain floorboards gave slightly under

Just like that. The forest fell silent again. But this time it wasn’t the same. Because now they knew. And worse I knew. Whatever I was becoming it was no longer hidden. And whatever was coming next it wouldn’t stop until it reached me.

My hands trembled. “She’s alive,” Presley said softly. “And if you’re ready… we can go today.” I didn’t answer–couldn’t. My heart thudded, heavy in my chest. My fingers trembled over the page. My world had just shifted. The mother I never knew, the face I’d wondered about for years… I was about to meet her. And suddenly, I didn’t know if I was ready at all. *** *** ~Author's Note~ Dear Readers, If you’re enjoying the story so far, please vote, leave a comment, or write a review—I would truly love to hear your thoughts. Sending virtual hugs 🤍

‎ ‎The light sharp and clean the way it only is in the early part of the morning before the day gets heavy. ‎ ‎Movement. Noise. Life. ‎ ‎And beneath it all, something new. ‎ ‎Something that had changed the entire shape of what came next without asking my permission. ‎ ‎I placed my hand lightly against my stomach. ‎ ‎Not in grief. ‎ ‎Just acknowledgement. ‎ ‎A quiet, private thing between me and a truth that the rest of the world did not get to know yet. ‎ ‎Then I stepped back. ‎ ‎Picked up my bag. ‎ ‎Checked my reflection once in the hallway mirror.

Read enough to understand the quality of what was happening. The first message she read that stopped her was from a woman she did not know, in a city she had never visited, who had apparently read the entire book between midnight and four in the morning and had written to say: I did not sleep. I could not sleep. Every time I thought I could put it down I found I could not put it down because it felt like putting down the only honest thing I had encountered in years. I have been in that kitchen. I have stood at that counter. I did not know anyone else had been there until this morning.

He's tried to reach out to me, my dad, and everyone I know and I'd made sure to stay far away from him and everyone he knew. For a while I'd lived a life of hiding. It was hard but I'd managed somehow. Until I didn't hide anymore. Until he got over it, at least that was what I'd thought. When his memoir came out, I was at a coffee shop. At that point, people had long forgotten about the little kiss we'd shared at the hospital and I was free to wander around the streets without the fear of getting noticed. As I was leaving, I'd noticed people taking pictures. And then I was being followed. I'd called my dad to come and fetch me because I was starting to feel uncomfortable.

But inside were slices of life so innocent, it almost broke me. Noah as a toddler in the park. Daniel holding him in the hospital, pride etched into every feature. Me—smiling, radiant, eyes crinkled with joy. That woman didn’t know yet what was coming. She didn’t know about Sophie Lane. About affairs and betrayals and the cold calculation behind false apologies. She didn’t know she would scream into pillows at night. That she would one day doubt every truth she once clung to like lifelines. But she also didn’t know she’d survive.