Follow
Chapters
Share
Eighteen Days to Forget You Novel Cover

Eighteen Days to Forget You

Eighteen days after giving up on Jarrett Sheppard, Alayna Dickerson cut off her waist-length hair and called her father, announcing her decision to move to California and attend the UC Berkeley College of Music. Her father, Samuel Dickerson, surprised, asked about the sudden change, reminding her how she'd always insisted on staying with Jarrett. Alayna forced a laugh, revealing the painful truth: Jarrett was getting married, and she, his stepsister, could no longer cling to him. That night, she tried to tell Jarrett about her college acceptance, but his fiancée, Kisha Prince, interrupted with a bubbly call, and Jarrett's tender words to Kisha twisted a knife in Alayna's heart. She remembered how his tenderness used to be hers alone, how he had given her her first harmonica when she was eight, becoming her musical mentor, and how she had poured out her heart to him in a love letter at seventeen, only for him to explode, tearing the letter and yelling, "I'm your brother!" He had stormed out, leaving her to painstakingly tape the shredded pieces back together. Her love, however, didn't die, not even when he brought Kisha home and told her to call her "sister-in-law." Now, she understood. She had to put that fire out herself. She had to dig Jarrett out of her heart.
Chapters
Share

Chapter 6

When she got home, Alayna Dickerson was soaked from the rain. She felt drowsy and heavy. After a hot shower, she collapsed into bed and fell asleep immediately.

For the past few days, she had been alone in the mansion. She was already getting used to it. She no longer tried to ask about Jarrett Sheppard's whereabouts.

"Ding."

Her phone chimed with a message. She picked it up and saw it was from her father, Samuel Dickerson.

[My dear daughter, your flight is scheduled to depart at 10 PM on August 25th. Remember to bring all your documents and materials for school. Dad will be waiting for you at the airport.]

Alayna clicked on her phone's calendar. She murmured to herself, "Only seven days until I leave this home."

Her calendar for seven days from now had an entry: [Jarrett Sheppard's Birthday].

Maybe her departure was the best birthday gift she could give him.

Over the next two days, Alayna went through her luggage again, making sure she had everything. Then she packed up all the old things she couldn't take with her and arranged for a donation pick-up service.

As the courier was making a list of the items and preparing to pack them into boxes, Jarrett returned home.

"What's going on?" he asked, his eyes on the piles of clothes and books.

Alayna filled out the donation form and motioned for the courier to take the bags first. "I arranged for old clothes to be picked up. I'm clearing out things I don't use."

Her voice was calm and empty of emotion. It made Jarrett frown. He had felt that Alayna was different lately, but he couldn't quite figure out what had changed. A strange feeling was growing inside him, a sense of emptiness he couldn't explain.

"Kisha and I have been staying at the Blue Sea Apartments downtown," he said, changing the subject. "It's quieter there and more convenient for work."

Alayna just nodded slightly. The Blue Sea Apartments, without her there, would indeed be quieter.

She watched as Jarrett started gathering some of his and Kisha's things, preparing to leave again. On impulse, she asked, "Jarrett, your birthday is next Friday. Can I attend?"

Alayna had meticulously prepared a gift for Jarrett's birthday every single year. This year would have been the tenth year. Ten. A perfect number. She wanted to see it through one last time.

Jarrett had shielded her for ten years. She wanted to say a proper goodbye.

"We'll see," Jarrett said, unwilling to commit. He pushed his suitcase toward the door and left.

The heavy sound of the door closing made Alayna's heart tremble slightly. Her eyes reddened.

Back in her room, she instinctively reached for the drawer in her bedside table, wanting to look at the love letters she had written to him. But when she opened it, the drawer was empty. She had already thrown away those brief but heartfelt letters. Only a faded sketchpad lay at the bottom of the drawer.

Alayna carefully took out the old sketchpad and gently opened it. The yellowed pages each showed Jarrett in a different moment.

Jarrett in his plaid school uniform, holding her hand, saying, "Kid, I'm taking you home."

Jarrett on the highest podium, holding a trophy, hanging the gold medal around her neck. He had said, "Kid, you're my badge of honor."

Jarrett at a formal banquet, holding a wine glass, in complete control, sending a thornless rose over to her table. He had said, "Kid, roses need time to bloom. I'll wait for you to grow up."

Every drawing was a memory etched deep in her mind.

But it didn't matter anymore. She would scrape those memories clean from her heart, bit by bit.

She turned to the last page of the sketchpad. It was blank. Alayna remembered that every year on Jarrett's birthday, she would secretly draw a picture of the two of them together. She thought she would draw one this year, too.

But this year, the people in the drawing would be Jarrett and Kisha Prince.

This time, she genuinely wished them well.

She drew meticulously, stroke by stroke, with great care. She didn't stop until the sun began to set.

Then, she heard the sound of a key in the front door.

Alayna went out to the living room and saw Jarrett stumble in. He smelled strongly of alcohol.

"Jarrett, why did you drink so much?" Seeing his unsteady steps, she quickly went to help him.

Jarrett leaned heavily on her, his large hand wrapping naturally around her waist. The strong scent of alcohol mixed with his familiar woody cologne filled her senses.

Alayna froze. She wanted to step back, to create some distance, but the next moment, Jarrett pulled her into his embrace.

His restless hand slipped under her clothes, and his burning, alcohol-fueled kiss landed forcefully on her lips. He knew exactly who she was, but the suppressed desire broke free under the influence of alcohol.

You may also like

Begging the Divorced Heiresses Back Novel Cover
8.4
After being treated as a mere tool by her husband until his true love returned, Anya signs the divorce papers and accepts a $100 million settlement. Warned never to pester him again, she leaves brokenhearted but determined to protect her unborn triplets. Four years later, Anya returns to the country not as a discarded wife, but as a powerful heiress ready to inherit her grandfather’s company. She is now focused on her career and raising her three children alone.
Blacklisted Singer's Return Novel Cover
8.6
Five years after a cruel conspiracy destroyed her music career and forced her into exile, a once-celebrated singer returns to the spotlight. Determined to reclaim her voice and expose those who orchestrated her downfall, she finds an unexpected ally in a powerful, cold-hearted billionaire. As they navigate the cutthroat entertainment industry together, a deep romance ignites, helping her find justice and a second chance at stardom.
Cheaters Talk Too Loud Novel Cover
9.1
In Sorevia City, Glen’s reality shatters when his hearing returns in secret. He overhears his wife, Vanessa Joplin, confessing to a pregnancy involving another man. Desperate to keep him, she plans to deceive Glen into believing the baby is his. Vanessa remains oblivious that her husband hears every word of her scheme. Glen is already planning his departure, having secured a ticket north. With seven days until his paperwork is ready, he intends to disappear completely and erase his past.
Ink And Temptation  Novel Cover
9.2
Greg Hartman is a brilliant but notorious novelist, known as much for his bestselling books as for the scandals that seem to follow him. Chaotic, charming, and unapologetically reckless, he thrives on breaking rules - both on the page and off it. Debbie Lawson is the opposite: a meticulous, no-nonsense editor who values professionalism above all else. She doesn't bend the rules, doesn't entertain drama, and certainly doesn't mix business with pleasure - especially not with a client like Greg. Assigned to oversee Greg's next novel, Debbie expects long nights of tense revisions, endless debates over plot points, and navigating his notorious temper. What she doesn't expect is the slow-burning, undeniable chemistry that simmers between them, turning each critique, glance, and accidental touch into a dangerous spark.
My Husband and Son Gave Her My Thanksgiving Seat Novel Cover
8.8
After her husband Adrian and son Lucas relegate her to a servant's status and hand her Thanksgiving seat to another woman, she boards a flight to Shanghai. Without her market model, Adrian's C$1.8 million investment crumbles, and Lucas's university file is frozen without her certified volunteer hours. Refusing to salvage their self-inflicted financial ruin or validate their lies, she launches her own venture, CrossCurrent, to permanently reclaim her independence.
No Divorce, Only Widowhood: His Possession Novel Cover
9.2
I went to The Ivy to return a box of scripts and hoodies, hoping to finally bury my past with movie star Harrison Knox. I just wanted to be a good wife to Julian Sterling and keep my family’s business merger intact. But Harrison had other plans. He staged a paparazzi ambush, pulling me into a fake embrace just as the cameras flashed. By the time I got home to our Bel Air estate, the headline "Harrison Knox Heartbroken? Tearful Reunion with Serena Vance" was already trending worldwide. The fallout was brutal. My father called, roaring that the stock was in freefall and threatening to stop my mother’s medical payments if I didn't keep Julian happy. My movie funding was pulled, leaving me to pawn my Birkin bags just to pay my staff. Even worse, Julian’s cold indifference turned into a sharp, quiet rage. He heard me tell a friend that our marriage felt like a transaction, and his response was to toss a black Centurion card at my feet like I was something he’d bought at an auction. I was trapped between a narcissist who wanted to use my trauma for his next script and a father who saw me as nothing but a bargaining chip. Even Julian, the man who secretly bought my movie rights through a shell company to protect me, believed I was still screaming my ex's name in my sleep. When my family finally demanded I lie and accuse Julian of domestic abuse to secure a settlement, I realized I had nothing left to lose. I walked away from the Vance name, deleted every memory of Harrison, and stood at the edge of the Pacific Ocean ready to let the tide take me. But Julian didn't come for a divorce. He found me in the dark, his coat heavy on my shoulders and his eyes burning with a possessive fire. "There is no divorce in the Sterling family," he whispered against my ear. "There is only widowhood. You are mine, Serena, until one of us is in the ground."