Romans & histoires He Chose Me He Don't Want You

“Not owned. Cherished. Worshipped like the goddess that you are.” The word made something shift in my chest. I hated it. “I can’t do this,” I whispered, backing away. “I can’t have another man telling me who I’m supposed to be or what I’m supposed to feel.” “You won’t have to,” he said. “When you remember… you’ll choose me. You always have.” “No,” I said firmly. “You don’t get to decide that.” “I’m not deciding,” he said. “I’m just waiting. For you to remember.”

He stood there with his back to me. I spoke first. "You can't just shut down." "I'm not." "You are. You're already doing it." He turned. "What do you want me to do? Lose everything?" "I want you to choose me. Us." He laughed bitter. "It's not that simple." "It is. You either want this or you don't." He stepped closer. "I want it, i want you. More than anything." "Then fight for it." "I am trying." "You're not. You're running."

She tried to run, but he grabbed her and pulled her into his arms. "I hate you! I hate you so much!" She pounded her fists on his chest. "Why did you come after me if you can't bear to leave her? I'm doing as you both wish and leaving, aren't I? Or do you really want to make me a shameless side chick?" He trapped her in his embrace. "No, it's not what I want! I won't let you marry anyone else! I can't stand the pain of losing you again! You're the only woman I've ever loved, damn it! Why won't you believe that?"

"On leverage. On making sure I always held the winning hand. But somewhere between the NBC interview and watching you hire a PI to investigate me, I realized I don't want to control you anymore." "Then what do you want?" "I want you to have a choice." He leans back against the marble, crossing his arms like he’s bracing for a blow. "A real one. Not the fake choice I gave you when you crashed into my car." He turns back to the machine, pours two mugs. Steam rises in the cold air of the kitchen. He slides one across the island to me. "I want you to choose. Stay or go. Hate me or forgive me. But choose because you want to. Not because I'm holding a contract to your throat."

The crisp edges of the papers sliced across my face. Blood seeped through in thin, red lines. "You're not even that sick. You refused to give up the donor kidney because you were jealous of Vincent, you dug your heels in on purpose. If I hadn't done what I did, he could have died because of you." "Nathan, I've known you for years. I must have been blind not to see through you sooner. To think I actually chose to marry someone like you."

I lowered my gaze, hiding what flickered in my eyes, and answered as calmly as I could, "Didn't your dad tell you? I've divorced him. I'm not your mom anymore. You won't have someone as useless as me around again." Claude panicked immediately, his voice breaking as he cried. "No! I only want you as my mom. I'm sorry. Can you forgive me? I'll only want you from now on." There was no way I felt nothing hearing that. But I had already chosen to leave. I wasn't turning back. I forced everything down and said quietly, "But Claude, I don't want you anymore. I don't want your dad, either." I hung up before he could say anything else.

"You've had months to figure this out. Months to decide what you want. And you still don't know?" "I know what I want. I just don't know how to get it without destroying everyone I care about." "That's the problem with wanting two different things. Eventually you have to choose." He stepped closer, his voice dropping. "I've made my choice. I chose you. I've been choosing you since the moment you walked into my house and shook my hand. Now it's your turn." "Victor—" The sound of a car pulling into the driveway cut through the room like a gunshot.

"We'll have lots of children, I promise. I swear I'll never let you down again!" But that hand—the one that once gave me warmth and courage—felt cold now, utterly empty. I pulled my hand back slowly but firmly. My voice, though soft, carried a quiet grief. "Jason, you know… after college, I actually wanted to leave this city. I planned to go back home and be with my parents. But then, after a blind date I didn't even take seriously, I chose to stay. For you." Jason just sat there, stunned. Something wet landed on the back of my hand, but it could no longer nourish the dried-out soil of my heart.

Now, she thought we'd rekindled things while she was ill and unconscious. I didn't know what sort of lies Christopher fed her, but I wanted no part of it. I swallowed my anger as I didn't want to upset Mom. After she'd fallen asleep, I turned to him and said coldly, "Christopher, enough. Don't use my mom as an excuse to get close to me. I told you I'm not marrying you. I don't even like you." The smile on his face froze. He hadn't expected me to be this harsh.