When Never Comes Novels & Stories

"Remind me to never cross you!" ----

Waiting for a message that's never going to come. From a woman who's already gone.

It arrives at the record office. Not a person. Not a message through the formal channel. A frequency. Neva feels it first — she is always in the record office at the hour when these things arrive, the same way the woman with river-water eyes is always at the corner of the lane. She is working the eastern territory notation when the frequency presents itself at the record office's western wall and she looks up from the notation and puts her hand on the stone and receives it. She texts me: *There is a city reaching out. Not a person. The city itself. I do not have words for this yet. Come to the record office.*

Henry shouted, "No! Yelena, I will never divorce you! And the child—why did you never tell me about it?" His voice trembled as he spoke. He was probably regretting it, but what was the use of regret? We could never go back. No matter how hard he tried, it was over. "I will never agree to a divorce!" Henry insisted. "Don't joke with me. This isn't funny at all." So, he thought I was joking.

"I hear that you founded a novel company." She nodded but remained silent. Undeterred, he continued, "How did I never notice your interest in writing before?" Kimberly gave a wry smile. "Well, it's because you never cared to know me." Daniel paused, ready to explain, but they arrived at their destination. In the coffee shop, they ordered drinks. Kimberly took a sip, and Daniel began, "The past year has been tough for both Henry and me." She felt nothing about it. "Oh? Well, I'm doing way better than before."

Waiting for the next take. Forever.

She is my wife but she was not able to visit me even once and then she suddenly showed up to me as if she had not failed to be a wife. "Why? Nothing happened to us before I was comatose, right?" He just shrugged before answering me. "Your grandma is coming home so you'd better just talk to her. You didn't say anything before you had the accident so I don't know what really happened to you, but as far as I know, Allyson went to Italy and then we lost the news about her. I tried to follow her back to the Philippines because of what happened to you, but I didn't find Allyson in Italy. " Chad replied so the wind from my head blew me away.

Ten minutes later, her text popped up on my phone. [Lincoln, I have to stay with Gurney to meet his parents. I'll definitely visit your mom the next time!] I was not even surprised. In the past two years, I had lost count of how many times I heard that same phrase. 'Next time, for sure'. Missed our anniversary? 'Next time, for sure'. Bailed on visiting my mother? 'Next time, for sure'. Too busy to go get our marriage registered? 'Tomorrow, for sure'.

Liam stammered, his words incoherent. "Please, just let me hold Cecilia one last time, I beg you." His eyes were filled with tears. How ironic—and I thought Liam would never shed a tear. I hesitated. After all, Liam was Cecilia's father and the man she had longed to see one last time before she passed away. Just as I was about to hand over the urn in my arms, a voice rang out. "My dear Liam." Mia had arrived without me noticing. She gently wiped away Liam's tears. Her voice was filled with sorrow.

I was gone. "Catherine… Cathy… Sweetie… where are you? Please, come out! Cathy, I remember now… Please, just come out!" He screamed at the empty space, but no one answered. He fumbled with his phone, calling me over and over. Still, no response. It was then he realized, in a gut-wrenching moment of despair, that aside from my love for sculpture, he knew nothing about me. His knowledge of his own wife was painfully barren. The phone rang again. This time, it was Hannah. "Theo… where are you? It hurts so much… Please come back… Our baby…"