All Chapters of ATTACHED WITH HER OBSESSION: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

The first email arrived at six in the morning. I saw it before I even sat up in bed, the glow of my phone cutting through the quiet. Aria was still asleep beside me, her breathing even, her arm draped loosely across my waist like it had been there all night without thinking. I didn’t move at first. I just stared at the screen. Subject: International Brand Partnership – Confidential Offer Location: Milan / Paris / Seoul Duration: 18 months I swallowed. This wasn’t the first offer I’d received lately. Since leaving my agency and working independently under Aria’s guidance, brands had been coming in steadily—some local, some regional, some global. But this one felt… heavier. Bigger. The kind of offer that didn’t knock. It waited patiently, confident I’d eventually open the door. I turned slightly, careful not to wake her, and slipped out of bed. The house was quiet in that early-morning way that felt almost sacred. I padded into the kitchen, brewed coffee, and finally opened th

That was the truth. Raw and uncomfortable. She nodded once. “Thank you for being honest.” We didn’t talk much after that. Not because there was nothing to say—but because saying it might have changed things too quickly. Over the next few days, our schedules began to overlap less. Not dramatically. Just enough to notice. She left early for meetings. I stayed up late answering emails. We still ate together when we could, still shared the same bed, still reached for each other instinctively—but something invisible had shifted. Not distance. Pressure. One afternoon, Xavier stopped by unannounced. Aria was out, meeting with a potential investor. The house felt quieter without her presence. “She’s impressive,” Xavier said casually as he watched me pace the kitchen. “Focused. Calm.” “She has to be,” I replied. “Everything’s on the line for her.” “And for you,” he added. I stopped pacing. “Do you think I’m being selfish?” He frowned. “Why would you ask that?” “Be

I made my final decision the morning before the deadline. It wasn’t dramatic. No tears, no shaking hands hovering over the keyboard. Just clarity. I drafted the email slowly, reading every line twice before sending it. I thanked them for the offer. I acknowledged the prestige. I expressed sincere appreciation. And then I declined. Not because I was afraid. Not because I was pressured. But because every time I imagined boarding that plane, I saw Aria standing at a distance I could not measure. I could let an opportunity go. But I could not let her go. When I hit send, I expected panic. Instead, I felt still. Certain. I walked out of my office earlier than usual that day, the city moving around me in its usual rhythm. Cars, conversations, people rushing toward their own ambitions. For once, I didn’t feel like I was racing anyone. I was choosing. And I chose her. Aria was in the living room when I got home. She was sitting on the floor, back against the couch, fil

Later, alone in the living room, I sat in the dim light and finally understood the depth of her fear.She didn’t doubt my love. She doubted permanence. She believed ambition and devotion could coexist—But not without consequence.And she was trying to absorb that consequence before it could hurt me. The problem was—It was already hurting me.I had stayed because she was my choice. But now I had to convince her that I wasn’t trapped. That I wasn’t diminished. That loving her didn’t feel like loss. Because if she kept stepping back, If she kept convincing herself she was temporary, then the only thing that would disappear— was us.And I wasn't wrong. A month had passed and Aria barely talks to me anymore. The last conversation that we had was about her decision to pursue her research abroad and postponing her clinic opening.It hurt me— not because I choose to stay but because she doesn't trust that I could still bloom here. With her.She planned so much about her career and she wanted

The door slammed behind me, but I didn’t hear it. Or maybe I did—and my mind just refused to register it. Everything felt… muted. Like the world had been wrapped in something thick and suffocating, dulling every sound except the one thing that wouldn’t stop echoing inside my head. That image. Him. Her. I walked blindly. I didn’t even remember grabbing my keys. I didn’t remember stepping outside. The only thing I was aware of was the way my chest felt like it was being torn open, breath by breath. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t process. I couldn’t even cry properly. It was like my body didn’t know how to react to that kind of pain. My phone buzzed in my hand. Xavier. I stared at the screen for a second before answering. “Hello?” My voice came out uneven, barely there. “Ena? Where are you?” His tone shifted immediately. “You don’t sound okay.” I laughed weakly, but it broke halfway through. “I’m… driving.” There was a pause. “Driving where?” “I don’t know,” I admitted.