When Was Five Years After A John Matherson Novel Released?

Two years after the death of my husband, John Foster, I get a video call from him—except it's him from five years in the future. "John! You're still alive! Tell me where you are. I'm coming now to bring you home!" Crying tears of joy, I scramble to pick up the car keys I dropped, only to hear him say, "Actually, I faked my death to be with your friend…" As my mind goes blank, he continues to tell me everything as if none of it is a big deal. "I attended my funeral. The whole time you were crying beside my casket, I was in the back room with Adaline, getting it on with her. You thought her eyes were red because she was crying in grief. "Oh, my mother and our son know that I faked my death, too. Every year, they've found all kinds of excuses to come spend time with us instead…" My blood turns cold. My hand shakes as I clutch the phone. Meanwhile, John exhales, looking like he has taken a load off his chest. "I've already told you the truth about everything now, Cecilia, so it's up to you whether you want to continue living like a widow."

"After his last tour in the Marines, Seth Thornton finds himself adrift when he returns to Fair Haven, Washington. A capable soldier who moved up the ranks, Seth struggles to find his place in a town he once called home as the memories of war continue to haunt him—until the day he encounters the beautiful Rose DiMarco. Seth saves Rose when a man accosts her, yet to his surprise, she spurns his help. Her beauty and her headstrong ways captivate him, and he can’t forget about her. When Rose becomes his new neighbor, she suddenly presents a temptation that the normally aloof Seth cannot resist. He wants her more than he’s ever wanted any woman. Rose DiMarco fled Seattle to escape from an ex-boyfriend who made her life hell. Fair Haven is supposed to be her haven, but her ex isn’t about to let her go. When he threatens her, she never expects her sexy new neighbor Seth to defend her and declare himself her protector. And she definitely doesn’t expect to long for Seth in every possible way: she wants his kiss, his embrace, his caress. His love. But as Rose’s ex-boyfriend vows to divulge all of her darkest secrets, she fears that Seth will never look at her the same way again when he knows the truth. While Rose must confront her demons, Seth must choose between returning to the horrors of war—or embracing a love that could set him free."

In my fifth year of teaching at a rural school in Mount Dalon, Melissa Snow shows up with her first love by her side. "Have you had enough of this miserable life? Go apologize, and after I'm married, I might still support you. Otherwise, stay here and rot as a lonely, broke schoolteacher." People around us begin to whisper, acting like I've been handed my golden ticket out of the impoverished area and should be falling to my knees in gratitude. I simply smile. "Teaching here suits me just fine. Besides, I'm married."

Emilka Winchester is the envy of Seattle. To the outside world, she is Mrs. Perfect—the beautiful, devoted wife of a powerful man, living a life of marble counters, designer dresses, and carefully curated happiness. But behind closed doors, the silence is deafening. When her husband misses their fifth anniversary, a single crack begins to spread. A missed dinner becomes a trail of lies leading from the rain-soaked streets of Seattle to a hidden hotel room in Chicago. One receipt. One lingering scent of lilies. One scrap of red lace that doesn’t belong to her. The truth shatters everything. But Damian doesn’t ask for forgiveness. He offers a solution. An open marriage. After years of failed IVFs and the weight of a legacy that never came, he no longer wants a wife,just a woman to maintain the illusion while he lives his life elsewhere. Now Emilka must decide: remain the perfect wife in a beautiful lie… or destroy everything to reclaim the truth. Because in a world built on appearances, the truth is the most dangerous thing she can choose.

When I was five, Mom and Dad took my little brother to the city for kindergarten and left me in a mountain village with my grandfather, who had dementia. Before they left, Dad told me to take care of Grandpa, watch the house, and protect the yard. Mom said I was the older brother, so I had to be sensible. They said that once they made enough money, they'd bring me to the city too. I didn't want to let go. I clung to Mom's leg and begged through tears, "Mom, please. I don't want to be separated from you." My tears and snot smeared across her expensive dress. She scolded me for being difficult, slapped my bottom until it swelled, and struck my face hard enough to break the skin. In the end, they didn't soften. They left and never came back. Three months later, when I was close to starving, I called Mom and begged her to send me something to eat. She snapped, irritated, "A boy who talks about being hungry every day? Why don't you just starve, then? How can there be nothing to eat in the countryside? "Your father and I are under so much pressure in the city. Can't you be sensible for once?" Her words came true. That winter, I starved to death. Five years later, Mom pushed open the rotten door. "Miles," she called. "Mom's back."

When I woke up that morning and happened to glance at the mirror, a scream tore from my throat before I could stop it. Because on the face I had always taken such pride in, there was now a jagged, horrifying scar. As terror gripped me, a cool, detached female voice cut through the air beside me. "What are you shrieking about so early in the morning? Scared by your own ugly face?" I looked up in shock and realized the voice belonged to my girlfriend, Alicia. Only—she wasn't the same girl from yesterday. Gone was the youthful innocence I remembered. In its place, every movement, every glance radiated the allure of a mature woman. The words slipped out before I could hold them back. "Babe… you're gorgeous…" But Alicia's brows knit together, her gaze colder than ice. "Kurt, drop the act!" Act? I was at a loss. Why would she accuse me of pretending? "Don't call me the way you used to five years ago. It's disgusting." Five years ago? But… I'm still twenty-three… am I not?