Valentine's Day Letter Novels & Stories

The doctor looked visibly startled when he saw me in the hospital room. Not long ago, I had come to him for a prenatal checkup and asked how to ensure my baby's health. "I'm sorry. Unfortunately, the child couldn't be saved," he said, his voice tinged with pity and sympathy. "Should we inform the father? Strange, it's Valentine's Day, and he's not here with you. Was there something urgent?" Oddly, I felt nothing. Just an eerie calm.

This year, I made sure I checked the group and it was written as; "Good evening great Allen Luxury International student. Trust you'll are good. The school is delighted that, tomorrow Valentine celebration would be full celebration. There won't be ant form of school activities. Tomorrow, which dated for love celebration, the school had given the student the full freedom to come have fun in your dazzling dresses and come play game, too. Yours dearly, Sighed Alen Grey."

I said. "As am I. But I know you've been waiting for Greece and like you said I think you need this. Go with my love and stay in touch," Gio replied once again hugging me. "I do have a request. Firstly, can you give this letter to Valentine? Hopefully he actually reads it. And if it seems like he's coming around give him this packet. Maybe it will help him decide,"I said handing him both the letter and the larger envelope.

How can a child give me something and be so confident about its hidden message? I loved you yesterday when you didn’t know me. I love you today when I see you. And I will always love you. Happy Valentine’s Day. A smile spreads across my face as I think of these lines. The only person I can think of that could write lines like these was Aoife. “So, the white flowers?” the florist interrupts. “Yeah,” I say, extending the white bouquet. “No Valentine’s red roses?” “No, ma’am, I’m fine with this.”

"We'll dine out tonight. I'll have Leo move your luggage back from Elana's place to the estate this evening." I didn't pay him any mind. I ignored his soft tone and turned back to the sales representative. "Can I write a greeting card to go with this?" "Yes, sure," the girl said, sensing the tension and trying to be helpful. I took the small, elegant card and wrote in my best script: 'Happy Valentine's Day, Ethan.' I could see Lucian's eyelid twitch drastically at the corner of my eye. The air around him suddenly turned freezing. His fingers around my wrist tightened until it almost hurt.

He smoothed the paper as if it were fragile. He had written them in the quiet that had come after his father’s hospice visit: a note to June apologizing with precise tenderness, asking her to keep loving, and a letter to Valerie filled with the ridiculous, specific things about mangoes and lemon tarts and how to braid hair, so that when she read it one day it would feel like a father’s voice reaching from a place beyond.

"You could say that." "Valentine's Day is hell." He says it like a fact, not a suggestion. "Worst holiday ever invented. Just manufactured pressure to prove something that shouldn't need proving." "You're not romantic then." "I was once romantic." His smile was sad. "Then I learned that romance and love are different things. Romance is just performance. Love is simply showing up when it's not pretty." I opened the door wider. I don't know why. Maybe because he's the first person all night who hasn't looked at me with pity or guilt or expectation.

Those tiny fingers trails itself on my bulge, sending electrified wave through my body. Without a second thought, I claimed her luscious lips, her fingers tangled in my hair as she returned the kiss a like more passionate. I thought of clearing the table and having her right there at that moment but on a second thought, I didn't. We have a long night and I need to savour every bit of it. "Tonight, we are young, sweetheart." I mumbled between kisses. It took me every morsel of self control left in me to untangle myself from the steamy passion.

-Tyler I chuckled a little, figuring it was brotherly humor more than an actual malicious insult. "Sorry," Ryder apologized again as he came up behind me, reading the note over my shoulder. I handed it over to him, "He left a message for you too," I explained with a giggle. "I know, I saw it already," he complained with a groan. "You should probably call him... He's been waiting long enough." My fingers brushed over the delicate purple blooms. I'd received a rose or two for Valentine's Day in the past. Nothing major. Nothing breathtaking. Nothing like this. I buried my face into the blossoms, inhaling the floral scent and basking in it. It was incredible.