Novelas y relatos de He Wanted Me Gone, Now He Wants Me Back

Looking at him is like looking in a mirror and an alternate reality all at once. It brings back so much. So many memories. So many moments of pain, weakness. “Is that how you want to play it, Mia? Fine,” he says as he gets back into his driver’s seat. The birds chirp outside, the sun is shining. But the darkness clouding me right now is not missed. “What do you want?” I ask, my voice stronger. I glare at him. “I thought it would be pretty obvious, baby. I want you back.” I shake my head. “Does your wife know you want me back?” I ask. “Or your other girlfriends?”

He tried to be polite with it. “What do you mean you want the ring? You gave it to me.” He gave her a blank stare. “And now I want it back. It’s my ring, right?” She couldn’t argue that. “What do you intend to do with it?” He grabbed her hand and pul led the ring free. “Give it back to who it originally belonged to.”

Or maybe he had… and simply didn’t care. Back then, he had been obsessed. Obsessed with Andrea. With their history. With the fantasy of a childhood promise that refused to die. He had carried that obsession into his marriage, into his home. He shut his eyes tightly as memories stabbed at him, sharp and humiliating. Alicia trying to walk into his room with a tray of freshly cut fruits, nervous but hopeful, trying to connect, to create a moment. He pushed her out, the tray crashing to the floor. Fruit scattered. She flinched. Andrea stood beside him grinning happily. The humiliation burned in his chest.

he asked, still clueless. “Get lost, you idiot! When did you see me happy? What gist do you want to hear? How she yelled at me or how her words almost ripped my heart out?” Zenith blinked, shocked silent. “Boss…” he finally managed. “What, boss?” I snapped. “I—I’m sorry. I’ll come back later,” he said, already turning to leave. Oh no, he wasn’t getting off that easily. “Come back here,” I said with a sly grin.

He asked. “Yes.” I sighed. “I want to go to him.” As soon as I said that, Kent dropped his hands to his thighs, letting me go. He looked away from me immediately. “But just the way I want him is the way I want you too, Kent.” “I am torn between my ex-husbands!”

He would hand me back to the place that threw me away, and then he would walk in the opposite direction and forget I ever existed. The thought hit me like a blow, and I didn’t want him to see the fear behind it, so I looked down. “Why are you trying to get rid of me?” I asked. My voice wasn’t loud, but it was more of my voice shaking. He blinked like he didn’t understand what I said. “Get rid of you?” he asked. “When did I say that?” “You didn’t have to say the words,” I said and stepped back from him. “Then explain why you suddenly want me to return. Explain why it has to be now. Explain if you’re done with me or if everything you said was a lie.”

I asked him, while trying to understand him. "Yes, but I don't want her, but rather I need just you and you alone." He responded to my question and I sighed softly, and told him I was never going to return to him, and also asked him to leave, but he didn't want to. So I rushed back into the house, leaving it standing there. Why on Earth is he troubling me now? Why does he want me back all of a sudden? All those questions popped into my head, as I slowly started walking into the bedroom.

he said. I understood all he had said but I still could not wrap my head around this whole obsession with wanting me back. I was literally confused as to why he was doing all of this. He had me once and fumbled and then he sees me at a glance and all of a sudden he wants me back.

The highlight of those five years was becoming Walter's fiancée. From the very beginning, everything between us had been clear. Yes, we had history, but the backbone of our relationship was revenge. Walter wanted what was stolen from him. He wanted his inheritance, which would grant him his rightful place in the Black family empire. And I? I wanted Adrian to choke on the love he had thrown in my face. I wanted full custody of my daughter. I wanted my child back after five long years of hearing that another woman had been called mother in my place.

And him—my fragile, stubborn, breakable little prey—he would learn that even silence, even fear, even the coldest nights couldn’t sever what bound us. Because I wasn’t just coming back to him. I was coming back for him. To reclaim. To possess. To ruin anyone who thought they could take him from me. The waiting was over. Tonight, the hunt begins.