Romance

The Last Time I Said I Love You: A Farewell Etched in Silence
Love is often thought of as an enduring force—something timeless, recurring, and ever-present. Yet there are moments in life when love must be released, relinquished, or remembered only as a chapter that has closed. The phrase “I love you” is among the most powerful in any language. But what happens when it is said for the last time—when it becomes not a beginning or continuation, but a farewell? "The Last Time I Said I Love You" is a phrase that carries both weight and quiet devastation. It marks the end of something sacred, a final act in a deeply emotional narrative.
By Anwar Jamilabout a year ago in Chapters
A Love Letter I’ll Never Send
Introduction: When Love Stays Hidden Not every love story is told out loud. Some live quietly in the margins of diaries, behind polite smiles, or sealed in envelopes that are never mailed. A Love Letter I’ll Never Send is a deeply emotional, introspective romance about the kind of love that changes you — even if it never gets its happy ending.
By Anwar Jamilabout a year ago in Chapters
The Color of Her Silence
When Silence Speaks Louder Than Words In a world that often equates love with grand gestures and constant communication, The Color of Her Silence offers a haunting, tender, and ultimately redemptive tale of what happens when two people fall in love through stillness, presence, and the quiet spaces in between. It is a story about trauma, healing, and how love can blossom not just in conversation, but in understanding the silences people carry.
By Anwar Jamilabout a year ago in Chapters
Chasing the Sound of Your Heart
A Love Story Across Miles and Melodies In a world increasingly connected by technology yet emotionally distant, Chasing the Sound of Your Heart explores the tender, complex, and deeply emotional journey of two souls bound by music and longing. Set against a backdrop of cities, headphones, late-night calls, and silent prayers, this is not just a love story — it is a story of reconnection, vulnerability, and the healing power of truly being heard.
By Anwar Jamilabout a year ago in Chapters
"The Kingdom Without a Name". AI-Generated.
The Kingdom Without a Name: Lost to Time, Bound by Fate Chapter One: The Marked One The mist came every morning in Brinmere. It rolled over the hills like a living memory, ancient and restless. Villagers swore it was harmless—just weather—but they never strayed into it. Not past the old standing stones. Not east.
By Khazar khayamabout a year ago in Chapters
Her Prey, His Captor
“Well, this is just fantastic,” I said, dabbing the paper towel on my split lip, wincing in pain as my blood soaked into it. The Quad and I were brought to the Dean’s office for what I assumed was to be a rather intense interrogation session. Hell, I’d be lucky to even remain a student after that. Still, getting kicked out of college would probably be the best-case scenario in this sort of situation. “I’ve never been in here before.” I said aloud, the Quad turning to stare at me. I ignored her and spent a few moments looking at the couple of bookshelves that decorated the walls around us. “Eh, it’s about what I’d expect. Right down to the fat goldfish in a bowl looking at me with its dumb little face. Only, I thought I’d be in here for some sort of praise, or for an award. But no... I’m here because of you.” I said, not hiding the disdain in my face as I turned to look at her.
By Mikeabout a year ago in Chapters
Her Prey, His Captor
“N-Now that everyone is here, let’s go over this one more time.” I sighed as my professor rambled nervously as she fiddled with one of her red braids. She was relatively new to teaching, something she brought up every few days since the semester started. It was amusing really, watching someone only a few years older than me tasked with teaching us. Apparently, being a genius doesn’t include excelling in interpersonal communication. After shuffling some papers noisily at the podium in front of the three hundred or so students, she cleared her throat and started again. “As you know, Earth was conquered...erm, liberated by the Bevusian Empire.”
By Mikeabout a year ago in Chapters
Working Late
It’s 5:35 p.m., and Mikaela is at my desk wearing a smile that I can’t reciprocate, but I try. I can’t help it; it’s involuntary. She gives me hope. I have had a stressful day in the end. All my daydreaming eventually replaced by stacks of work. My groinal discomfort replaced by an irritable fidgeting caused by stress. But there’s camomile in her smile. She soothes the stress away with minimal effort, and now I’m in her debt. I fear I’m in so deep I’ll never get out of it.
By Simon Georgeabout a year ago in Chapters
“In the Quiet, I Found You”
Chapter 1: The Quiet Corner Elena was the kind of girl who found comfort in silence. While the world outside buzzed with noise, she found peace between pages — always tucked away in the last corner of her university library.
By Izhar khanabout a year ago in Chapters
Letters Without Sound”
Chapter 1: The Quiet Corner Elena was the kind of girl who found comfort in silence. While the world outside buzzed with noise, she found peace between pages — always tucked away in the last corner of her university library.
By Izhar khanabout a year ago in Chapters
My cruel love
My Cruel Love I'm buying you—for an entire month. Starting today, for the next thirty days, you'll be mine. Only mine. Your only job will be to please me. You won't even look at another man. Arman Shahriar's voice was low, smooth, and laced with danger—his breath brushing against Maya's ear. A chill ran down her spine. Earlier that evening. In a luxurious private lounge, a group of women stood in a line—each one stunning, dressed to seduce. Laughter echoed faintly in the background, but the tension in the room was palpable. In front of them sat a sharply dressed man, casually lounging on a single sofa. Arman Shahriar. Twenty-eight years old. Cold, charismatic, and devastatingly handsome. With a sculpted physique and dark, unreadable eyes, he was the kind of man women wanted and men feared. But Arman didn't care for emotions. He believed love was a myth—an unnecessary weakness. Power, wealth, fame, control. That's all that mattered. His business partner leaned in with a grin. "These are our club's best performers. For tonight's celebration, take your pick. Consider it a gift to mark the start of our partnership. Arman swirled the wine in his glass, unimpressed. He scanned the line of women, each one hoping—begging—to be chosen. Not one stirred even the faintest spark of interest. He scoffed. "They're all the same. Dull. Recycled. Got anything new? The rejection stung, though none dared protest. The partner chuckled awkwardly. "No worries. I've saved the best for last. The newest recruits—untouched and eager to impress. He snapped his fingers at a guard. "Bring the fresh ones. Five minutes. In another room, a small group of women were being prepped to meet the club's most powerful guest. The air was thick with hairspray and nervous excitement. One name changed the room's energy instantly: Arman Shahriar. Everyone looked thrilled—except for one woman in the corner. Maya froze. Her pulse quickened. She never thought she'd hear that name again—not here. A few minutes later, the new group entered the lounge. Arman sat up straighter as his eyes swept across them—then stopped. There she was. In a deep red gown, standing still and silent, her face unreadable. Maya Akhter. His ex-wife. No one in the room knew. Theirs had been a secret marriage—forced by family, short-lived, and left in silence. The partner beamed. "These girls just joined today. It's their lucky night, starting their career in the company of a man like you. Arman didn't respond. He couldn't take his eyes off her. Maya kept her gaze down, expression blank. But Arman rose, set down his glass, and walked toward her—ignoring every other woman. The room watched, stunned, as he stopped in front of her, took her wrist, and pulled her toward him. With his other hand, he gripped her waist. Maya stumbled slightly, clutching his shirt to steady herself, still refusing to meet his eyes. "I want this one," he said coldly. Gasps echoed behind him. His partner stammered, "Of course, of course! She's brand new. A rare find. Arman didn't respond. His stare remained locked on Maya—intense, unreadable. The girls were dismissed. The room cleared. Alone now, Arman's expression hardened. He tightened his grip. "So, when did you start selling yourself? His words were sharp, meant to cut. And they did. Maya flinched inwardly, but kept her voice steady. She had once loved this man—with everything she had. She'd married him with hope, only to be discarded like nothing. He'd never let her in, never gave her a chance. Just divorce papers and a wad of money she returned without a word. But now, she wouldn't let him see her broken. Her eyes finally met his. Calm. Cold. "I got tired of being poor. Dreams cost money. My husband left me, so I found a way to survive. Arman's jaw tightened. "You? Dreams?" he sneered. "So this is how you chase them? Selling your body to strangers? He leaned in, voice laced with disgust. "You never deserved to be my wife. Maya didn't flinch. Instead, she offered a slow, provocative smile. Her hand trailed around his neck. "Then let's strike a deal," she whispered. "You pay. I perform. No emotions. Just business. I've been waiting for a rich client like you. His eyes flared. "Client? How many? Maya shrugged. "Do you count your conquests, Mr. Shahriar? This is work. I don't keep souvenirs. Fury burned in his eyes. He grabbed her chin roughly. She winced but didn't break. "I thought you had dignity," he growled. "When you returned the money, I felt guilt—like maybe I ruined a good woman's life. But now I see the truth. You're exactly what I always feared. Maya smiled, eyes hollow. "Then I guess we're finally honest with each other. To be continued..
By Story writesabout a year ago in Chapters
Dating for Normies. Top Story - June 2025.
Mikaela, my incredibly beautiful boss, is staring at me. Mikaela is part Swedish and part English Rose, think Kate Beckinsale, but with Scandinavian blue eyes. She’s smiling in that way only she does. It’s disarming and entrancing, almost hypnotic. I’m drifting back into my daydream of the two of us together, kissing on a picnic blanket on top of the Ta’ Ċenċ Cliffs of Gozo Island, Malta. I saw an influencer couple share the same image on their Travelgram, and I’ve been dreaming of my own romantic sunset ever since. Whenever I’m around Mikaela, she makes me feel like it’s meant to be. We have a connection. I’m sure of it. I feel it in my bones. Even the way she’s smiling at me now feels personal like we’re sharing a secret that nobody else is in on. I know it’s a weird thing to say about your boss, but we’re the same age, and she’s not actually my boss. She’s just more senior than I am and is in charge of certain projects that I work on, so it’s not weird. Okay, it’s a little weird, but—Mikaela tilts her head like she’s waiting for me to respond to a question. I look around the room, and everyone is staring at me as if to confirm it.
By Simon Georgeabout a year ago in Chapters