The Ultimate Romance Bundle

When you’re crying in your closet wearing your ex’s hoodie, you start to realize that heartbreak doesn’t sound like sobbing—it sounds like silence.

The kind of silence that hums.

That makes you aware of the air in your lungs and the way your breath catches on every thought you wish you hadn’t had.

I was sitting on the floor, knees to my chest, phone clutched in my hand like it might explain how I’d gotten here.

When it lit up with his name, I almost didn’t answer.

His voice was calm. Too calm.

“I made a mistake,” he said.

Four words that detonated in my chest like a fault line splitting open.

I didn’t cry harder. I didn’t say anything. I just hung up and sat there, watching the tiny crack of light under the closet door.

Then I called my brother.

He didn’t ask for details. He just said, “He’s already on his way.”

And I knew who he meant.

My brother’s best friend.

The one who’d always looked at me too long before looking away.

I started packing—jeans, toothbrush, the hoodie still clinging to me like an old bruise I couldn’t shake.

No plan. No place to go. Just the need to move.

When I stepped outside, the air felt different—sharp, electric, the kind of air that makes your skin feel too alive.

Headlights turned the corner, low and smooth, a black car rolling to a stop in front of the house.

He got out first.

Tall. Stillness disguised as calm.

The kind of man who doesn’t need to raise his voice to be heard.

He didn’t ask if I was okay. Didn’t ask anything.

Just opened the passenger door and waited.

I slid in, the door closing behind me with a solid, final sound.

Leather, rain, and his cologne filled the space between us.

We didn’t speak.

The road stretched out in front of us, long and dark, the world outside smearing past like something we were both trying to escape.

At his house, he parked but didn’t move to get out.

The engine ticked as it cooled, the only sound between us.

Then, quietly—like it wasn’t a decision but a reaction—he reached for me.
His hand found my wrist, warm, certain, pulling me across the console until I was against him.

For a second, I froze.

Then my body just—melted.

Like it had been waiting for this, for him, without ever admitting it.

His arm slid around my waist, grounding me, his breath rough against the side of my neck.

I could feel his heartbeat, fast and steady, pressed against my chest.

When I looked up, he was already watching me.

No hesitation. No apology.

And in a voice that sounded more like confession than desire, he said—
“I’ve wanted you right here for years.”

Time stopped. The world went quiet.

And for the first time all night, I didn’t feel like something broken.

I just felt seen.