The Difference Between Somebody and Someone (Difference Trilogy #1) Read Online Aly Martinez

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Drama, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Difference Trilogy Series by Aly Martinez

Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)

Read Online Books/Novels:

(Difference Trilogy #1) The Difference Between Somebody and Someone

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Aly Martinez

Book Information:

The world owes you nothing.
It took losing the woman I loved and facing the paralyzing task of moving on without her for me to truly understand that.
Consumed by regret and razor-sharp memories, I’d resigned myself to a life of loneliness until a survivor from the same plane crash that took my fiancée stormed into my life.
Remi Grey was chaos and sunshine, fire and freedom. With her in my arms, I began to believe that fate had other plans for me.
But as secrets of the past exploded around us, it seemed the only thing fated about our relationship was that I had been destined to lose her from the start.
The world owes you nothing. But for Remi, I would risk it all. No matter the cost.
Books in Series:

Difference Trilogy Series by Aly Martinez

Books by Author:

Aly Martinez


The world owes you nothing.

There, I said it. And I hope to God you actually listened because it’s the best piece of advice you will ever receive. It took over thirty years of my life, five days of surviving the unimaginable, losing the woman I loved—not once, but twice—and then facing the horrific, paralyzing, and utterly impossible task of moving on without her before I finally figured it out.

The world owes you nothing. Not even a final goodbye.

When I proposed, I imagined we’d grow old together. If my mother’s side of the family was any indication, my rich brown hair would have fallen out while hers would have faded into a timeless silver. We would have held hands, rocking on a porch swing while a ball of fur roughly the size of a football played fetch with our grandkids. One night we’d go to bed, she’d curl into my side, whisper I love you, and then we’d drift off into the afterlife together.

I mean, not that I’d planned our deaths or anything, but we all had romanticized thoughts on how we’d go.

This was never how it was supposed to end. Though not many things in the storm of our relationship had gone as planned.

The world owes you nothing.

It had given us even less.

To adequately convey my journey through hell, I’ll need to start at the end.

The very end.

The last time I saw my Sally.

“Are you just going to sit there and mope the whole flight?” she snipped.

I gritted my teeth and tried—unsuccessfully—to cross my legs in the suffocating confines of the middle seat. I was six-foot-four to her five-foot-nothing, yet she had settled into the one on the aisle as soon as we’d found our seats.

Such was life with Sally.

After a muttered apology for bumping the snoring man on my other side, I flicked my gaze to the Bloody Mary in her hand. “Sorry, is my mood killing your buzz?”

Her blue eyes sparkled in the glow of the reading light. “It really is.”

I shook my head and went back to mindlessly flipping the pages of a magazine I’d bought at the terminal back in Colorado. I’d picked it up with hopes it would be a distraction from the cyclone raging within me on our way back to Atlanta. The minute she ordered that drink, I’d known it was a lost cause.

Her hand came across the armrest and landed on my thigh. “Bowen, stop. It’s not a big deal.”

It was the truth. Compared to everything we’d been through, our house could have been swallowed by a sinkhole and it wouldn’t have been considered a big deal.

Honest to God, I was lucky to still have her at all. It had only been nine months since we’d met, but we’d lived a thousand lives in that time. Unfortunately, that also meant we’d died almost as many deaths.

Terrifying, tortuous, agony-filled deaths.

We’d also found love though—immeasurable amounts of it.

I stared down at her engagement ring. I’d cashed out a huge chunk of my savings account and still had to open a line of credit with the jewelry store to buy the three-karat princess-cut ring. The payment was roughly the same as I paid for my truck each month, but the tears in her eyes as she’d sat in her hospital bed, clutching it to her chest the day I proposed, made it all worth it.

She was worth it. Every day, every tear, every worry-filled minute shaved off my life.

I’d do it all again.

If only I weren’t so fucking helpless to save her. I loved that woman. Whole heart. Whole soul. Bend me, break me, crack me open and she would have been there. No matter how bad it got, she was always a part of me.

I wasn’t sure anymore if she could say the same.

“Bowen,” she whispered, just as she’d done so many times before. It was a plea. One she knew I’d answer no matter the situation. No matter how mad I got. No matter how much I feared losing her again.

My gaze instinctively lifted to hers.

She smiled and the sight caused an ache in my chest. It was a lie.

Fuck. I missed her smile.

“Baby, I’m okay.” She tilted her head to her drink. “I hate flying. That’s all this is.”

That was a lie too.

My shoulders fell and a loud breath tore from my burning lungs, but I let myself pretend, my mind going back to a time when it could have been the truth.

I thought of the nights we’d shared multiple bottles of wine and made love, laughing and moaning under the covers until the sun crept across the horizon. She’d rested peacefully in my arms. No nightmares. No crying in her sleep. No insomnia. Just even breaths, her head on my shoulder, and her body wound around mine so tightly it was like a second skin.