Favorite Possession Novels & Stories

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It’ll get me through this. Two cashmere sweaters (both gifts from a man who no longer exists, soft but stained with memories). Burn them? Keep them? Why does everything feel like a landmine? One pair of pre-pregnancy jeans I may never fit again. The leather-bound notebook that contains every Whitford product roadmap I ever drew at 3 a.m. This is my real empire. Not his glass tower. Mine. The tiny white onesie with the gold crown. For you, little one. I’ll build you a world where no one ever takes your crown.

She added, “But we needed to do it. Having your family’s wealth will increase ours. And once it happens? Our daughter will be proud of us.” Ricardo nodded, agreeing with what Eleanor was saying. I didn’t answer immediately as I clenched my fists, nails burying in my skin. That’s why I always feel that something’s wrong in that room. Even if I’m the one using that, it never felt like it was mine. Her statement says it all.

I was a man who owned everything, yet I was sitting here waiting for a ghost that wasn't coming back. ​I pulled out my phone and scrolled past the business emails and the missed calls. I opened the digital version of The Sovereign and found the latest column by L.L. Ni. ​“The most expensive things in life are the ones that can never be replaced, only mourned.” ​I finished my drink in one gulp, the burn of the bourbon matching the fire in my chest. Whoever this writer was, she understood a truth I was learning the hard way. I had traded a soul for a bet, and now I was a king of an empty, silent castle.

She wasn't expecting him to play like this. Her glossy eyes wandered on things. She still remembers how she used to carry that long-eared rabbit soft toy all the time, how she has cherished that necklace with so much love. Not because it's jewellery, but it was given by someone special. Why those gifts matter is that feelings are attached to them. Now people will buy it like it's just eye candy for them, and after a few days, they will discard it. She can't even imagine. Her blood was boiling, and she couldn't stop this madness. Egon is not going to stop and she can't stop him either.

I try to show him with my actions and gestures that I’m all his. I don’t find his possessive attitude annoying, I have to admit I quite like it. For years I waited for this special person whom I can be possessed of and who would be equally infatuated with me. And now that I have it, I’m planning to thoroughly enjoy it. I’m proud of my mate, he’s fucking gorgeous. I’m happy to show him off and flaunt him on everyone’s face.

“You are really bad at this present thing, aren’t you? Buy something like that and give it to him away from everyone else. Buy something like a watch, a keyring, a belt… I don’t know, something else, for him to open in front of everyone else.” He makes sense. Okay, so what do I buy then? Thinking back to the playroom, I know of one thing but I don’t even know if I can find it: the whip Max stole, his favourite whip. He didn’t even try to find a replacement and just accepted it was gone, but it was his favourite. I don’t even know how to find that. I know Marcus would though, but that just feels too awkward. Looking at him, he seems to know what I am thinking.

My parents liked to show off their wealth with extravent, heavy furniture, and garish, but expensive, dust gatherers - ornaments and art they bought just to show everyone how rich they were. Those things meant nothing to them, and it meant nothing to me. Some of the items went to Angelica, but a lot of the furniture and junk are still in storage. I only kept the things that mattered most to me. Sentimental little nick nacks that are worthless to most, but priceless to me. The penthouse only has three bedrooms. The master and two smaller ones. Marco shifts the sleeping Betsy higher up on his shoulder and gives me an expectant look. “Second floor,” I say. “Third door on the right.”

I confronted her. "Are you mad at me because I wore this dress?" She sarcastically retorted. "I don't remember you asking permission to borrow that dress of mine. That's my favorite and I seldom wear it because I'm saving it for special occasions." The dress was one of my most valuable things I treasure and it really pissed me off because she just wore it without asking my permission. It was the last dress my Mom bought me when we went shopping. It was the time when she was healthy and she was not aware of her disease. I was worried she might bring it back broken just like what she usually does when she uses my stuff.

I guess at the end of the day, we all want what we can’t have. “I like a girl who doesn’t mix business with pleasure,” Stacey teased and we all laughed. “Oh come on, you’re seriously hurting my chances with her here, boss lady.” Max playfully whined, adding to our whole humorous atmosphere. “Thanks for the talk, Stace.” I said before walking away. “You guys have a great weekend.” I took the long way home, trying to avoid imprisoning myself to the walls of my studio apartment, for longer than I had to.