My Girlfriend's Wardrobe Novels & Stories

“He’s going to short-circuit.” “Mariah—” “He’s going to stand there like a malfunctioning robot, trying to process the fact that his girlfriend looks like a homecoming queen from another dimension,” she continued. “He already looks at you like you’re some rare limited-edition thing. Add this dress? Game over.” I stared at myself again. Girlfriend. The word echoed in my chest, warm and terrifying all at once. “Do you ever think…” I started, then trailed off. “What?” she asked gently.

She did not care what style he preferred, but just took a few sets of clothes and tossed them at him. The shop assistant said cautiously, "Mr. Kooper, your girlfriend has just randomly picked out some outfits. Why don't I choose for you?"

She was fond of giving me advices every day of my life, her advices had really helped a lot in making some valid decisions of my life. “Okay mom, have a great day.” I said, ending the call. I got back to my dressing room, where I picked up my hot comb, pulling it into my hairs. It was straightened and neatly styled, also giving a Casanova vibe. I had never got a girlfriend in my entire life, till now so I could say I wasn’t a playboy. I dotted few drops of cream on my palm as I rubbed it evenly on my body and face . Heading for my wardrobe which were extremely big sized containing varieties of dresses including those I never wore.

I admitted, motioning to the pile of work on the desk. “Busy? And what is going to happen tomorrow? You gonna walk around naked?” She smirked. “And don’t try to tell me that you will manage... girl...” “I... have a pair of sweats somewhere probably...” “Oh, hell no!” Angie huffed. “You need to completely redo your whole wardrobe! You need to look the part, and nasty sweats isn’t it!” “Alright, alright... as soon as we get this figured out then we can go, okay?” I say calmly to placate my friends.

“How are you?” He pulled her out of her thoughts. “It's okay…Is this your wardrobe? Let me pick something for you." The small hand opened the cabinet. Inside are a lot of clothes of all kinds. From vests to t-shirts, sweaters, and jackets. She looked at the wardrobe and was a little stunned. The rich are indeed full of branded goods. She conveniently chose for him a short-sleeved T-shirt mixed with baggy pants combined with active sports shoes. Outside is a youthful denim shirt.

After Resting and cleaning myself I covers my body with bathrobes, my hair was wet, and water was still dripping from the flocks of my hair. I feel like I am lighter than a cloud, the lotions that I used were full of fragrance, I am very delighted right now, I need to wear something, so went to the closet area, where a high cupboard was there in the corner, I opened it, and saw only girls outfit. Whose clothes they are??? Are they his girlfriends? Only a thought of it made me disgusted because they were all very short, and if I wear them; I will be showing half of my body to him.

I dragged myself over to the closet, unsure if I even had suitable attire to wear in this unfamiliar place. Opening the wardrobe, I was greeted by its sheer size, almost as large as the bedroom itself. One side was his, filled with nothing but black and white attire, lacking any vibrant colors. On the other side of the wardrobe, I found an array of evening gowns and formal dresses, stuffed into every available space. Among them were simpler options, more suited for lounging around at home in comfort. On the opposite side, there were sweaters, blouses, jeans, and skirts, offering a more casual selection for everyday wear.

And he would know it wasn't mine. He had spent a small fortune curating my wardrobe since I arrived. Exclusive pieces flown in from Paris, Milan, New York. I never asked for them. I hated them. "I don't give two flying fucks about what I put on my body," I muttered to the empty room, violently kicking off the sleek black heels. "But because he likes to play dress-up with his girlfriend, I have to play the part." It was usually easier to let him have that control. Clothes were harmless. But this dress felt like a loaded gun.

He mumble, his girlfriend! "Why should I select clothes for your girlfriend?" I asked with gritted teeth. Is he serious right now? "Because your style matches her. I think you both have the same taste of fashions." "Okay fine!" He place his iPad near me so that I can select the dresses. I've already selected five outfits, "is it enough?" I mutter.

“You know getting a place with a built-in wardrobe is expensive.” I looked at her, raising a brow. “Since when did you become conscious of spending?” “Since I became a girlfriend to a responsible man,” she said proudly, tossing her hair. “I feel like a wife already.” I burst into laughter. “Cassia, you’ve been in a relationship for five minutes!” “Five glorious minutes,” she said dramatically. “And I’m loving every second of it.” “Still, you need to move,” I said, shaking my head.