Where Can I Read The Road Not Taken Online For Free?

It was raining very heavily on the day my parents got divorced. There are two copies of the agreements on the table. One declares that the signee will stay with Dad, who's a gambling addict and has already racked up a huge debt, in the old town. The other declares that the signee will follow Mom, who will marry a rich businessman, and move to a coastal town. In the previous life, my younger sister, Tamara Browning, kicked up a fuss because she wanted to stay with Mom. So, I packed up my luggage quietly and went with Dad. Soon after, Dad quit gambling and received the compensation due to our house being demolished in a governmental project. Since then, he showered me with love and affection. Meanwhile, Tamara wasn't allowed to even leave the house. On top of that, she was neglected by everyone, so she died from depression. Now that we're given a second chance in life, Tamara snatches the cigarette out of Dad's fingers before hugging him, refusing to let him go at all. "Tiana, my heart aches for Dad's situation. You should live a good life with Mom. I'll give that chance to you." I deign to say anything at all. Instead, I just pick up the train ticket that'll take me to the coastal town. But what Tamara doesn't know is the reason behind Dad's decision to quit gambling in the previous life. At that time, I had overexhausted myself from paying off his debt, and I began vomiting blood due to my brain cancer. I practically had to risk my life just to get him to quit gambling once and for all.

By the seventh year of my engagement to Tristan, he postponed our wedding for the third time. The reason was simple. His childhood sweetheart, Gabriella, had returned to the country. She had just gone through a divorce and was emotionally unstable. Tristan personally retrieved every invitation we had sent out, his tone calm and steady. "Gabby has no one by her side right now. I can't upset her at a time like this." I held the ring that had already been resized twice and asked, "What about me?" Tristan glanced at me. "You're different. You're sensible." I had been hearing that word for seven years. Sensible. When his startup failed, I sold the old house my grandmother had left me to help him pay off his debts. When he suffered a gastric hemorrhage, I stayed at the hospital for three days straight and missed my own promotion defense. When his mother said my background was too ordinary for him, he only rubbed his temples and said, "Tori, don't make this difficult for me." Every time, I nodded. He once told me that no matter how thick the fog became, he would always leave a light on for me. Until the day Gabriella stood in front of the mirror wearing my wedding dress and smiled as she asked, "Victoria, you don't mind, do you? Tristan said your wedding's being postponed anyway." Tristan stood behind her. He did not deny it. He even reached out and adjusted her veil for her. The fog lamp he had given me with his own hands sat by the display window of the bridal shop. It was still lit, illuminating someone else in the white dress I had waited seven years to wear. Only then did I realize that some roads were not lost because the fog was too thick. It was because he had never planned to come for me at all.

Book two. Please read "Not All That Glitters" before "Not All Who Wander Are Lost."Christmas 2019 in Auburn brought with it a chance for new beginnings. Complicated relationships started to mend and different recoveries were being made. As far as Whitney York and Hollis Bogard were concerned, they knew every hardship they'd face from that point on would be easier since they had each other for support.Fast forward to May, five months later. While making the last minute preparations for she and Whitney's Christmas gift to New York for a week, Hollis gets some disheartening news. If that weren't bad enough, patching things up with her parents was turning out to be a long, winding road. Dalton's prolonged, stressful testimonies to ensure he gets more than a cash settlement from the wealthy prick who put him in a wheelchair after driving drunk is the last straw. As Hollis starts wrestling with her inner demons again, slipping downward is inevitable. Will she confide in Whitney, or risk relapsing?Since disowning her, Whitney stopped hearing from her perfect family altogether. While the lovers are wrapping up in New York, she suddenly comes face to face with Hollywood's latest headliner;Theresa, her famous sister, has died. Urged to attend the funeral, Whitney makes it clear she won't go without Hollis, the very person her parents blame for staying in Maine.Buckle in! Disclaimer: Strong mature content, graphic scenes, drug usage. 18+, please. This novel won’t be for you if you’re not comfortable with any of the above topics.2020 All Rights Reserved (you know how it goes) Please don't attempt to steal any part of my work.

Mom said I needed to toughen up, so she made me walk home alone. "You're ten. Everyone else can do it. Why can't you? If you were even half as capable as your cousin, I wouldn't have to worry so much." I shook my head and signed, [I can't hear. Crossing streets isn't safe.] She gave me that look. Total disappointment. Then she walked off with my cousin, Sadie. What Mom didn't know was that before school let out, Sadie had stopped me. Said she was helping Mom make me independent. Then she snatched my hearing aid. Now the whole world was silent. I followed the crowd down the sidewalk. At a small intersection, a car spun out, horn blaring. Everyone scattered. Everyone but me. I couldn't hear it. My spirit rose above the street. Below, my body lay in a pool of blood. Mom... Sorry. I couldn't do this independence thing.

On the heavy traffic road rushing my father to the hospital due to a cerebral hemorrhage, we ran into my husband, who was directing traffic as a police officer. My mother was about to wind the window down and beg him for help, but I immediately stopped her and decisively turned the steering wheel, taking a narrow side road instead. In my previous life, at this exact situation, after a brief moment of hesitation, my husband had chosen to clear a path for us and personally escorted my father to the hospital. That very night, his childhood sweetheart, out of spite because he hadn't answered her calls, turned on the gas and killed herself. He seemed utterly unaffected by her death. He even organized a welcome-home party for my father when he was discharged from the hospital. But on the day of the party, he poisoned every dish on the table. "It's because of you and your damn father! If it weren't for you, Rosalin wouldn't have killed herself! You're the ones who drove her to death! You should pay for her life!" When I opened my eyes once more, I had returned to the day my father collapsed. This time, my husband answered the phone. Without a second thought, he ran to his childhood sweetheart. Yet, why had he still come to regret it?

My fiancé presented two engagement rings—one for me, one for my sister to choose first. The first was a three-carat fancy pink diamond, flown in from Antwerp, the kind that made dealers go quiet. The second was a plain platinum band, standard issue, the sort you buy off the tray as a backup. For the first time in my life, I pointed at the pink diamond. "I'll choose first this time." Dante Moretti ran his hand through my hair, the way you soothe a restless dog. "Eleanor, you know Grace has always been particular. If she can't have the best, she'd rather have nothing. You've never cared about any of this. The other one is fine." I didn't answer. My chest felt hollow. We'd grown up together—his father ran the West Coast territory, mine the East. But in Dante's eyes, I'd always been the second daughter, the one who got what Grace didn't want. Every summer, he'd cut watermelon and bring the first plate to Grace. She'd take the center slice—sweetest, seedless, deepest red. He'd push the rest toward me—the pale pink near the rind. "This part's still good. Just not as sweet." When he bought his first Maserati, Grace picked the front seat—less motion sickness. He gestured at the back. "A little tight, but you can pick either side." Even our love was secondhand. He'd loved Grace first. She chose her academic career over him. So Dante, wounded and restless, came to me. In his world, Grace was always the first choice. I looked at the platinum band and pushed it across the table. "Give them both to Grace. I don't want either."