Obsession Escaping My Ex Novels & Stories

MARCELLUS I don't answer immediately. Instead, I look at Nora. She's staring at the chocolate spilling across the plate, refusing to look at me. "...I do." No one utters a word. Even Sebastian has his narrowed gaze on me. "She's right." My voice is calm. "Obsession doesn't announce itself. One day you're simply... rearranging your entire life around another person without realizing you've already lost." A few contestants exchange glances. "And lies?" I continue. "They sometimes don't begin with bad intentions."

"I didn't want to admit this, but maybe am obsessed. If not, then I will have to let her go. She has hurt me enough, but I still want her anyway. That is an obsession" I lowered my head embarrassed, by my confession but was shocked when I felt Connor's hand on my shoulder. "Remember when I was puzzled about letting go of Alicia after my mother kidnapped her" "Yes, what about it?" "Did you remember what I said then?" "That you are a selfish being but can't let Alicia go, because of your crazy obsession" I laughed as I remember the night when we almost lost Alicia. "And your reply was obsession is also a feeling," We both said and we cackled between laughter.

Her action proved their words right. How could she even think of running away from me? I won't get fooled this time. I will not let her run away from me at any cost even if I have to lock her in a room with thousands of locks on the door. I know the way my obsession is increasing for her day by day is not good for me but I can't help. I am like this. I am obsessed and possessive of my things. And I know I will get over it once I get what I what. The day I will get satisfied with her I will throw her out of my home and after that, she could do the fuck she wants.

Just raw obsession typed in perfect grammar like it came from a CEO who owned both your salary and your soul. I needed therapy. I needed holy water. I needed a priest. "Did that bastard fuck you last night?” His words flashed across the screen like a bullet to my chest. My stomach churned. “Is that why you’re still sick? Because he’s had you all night long?” I wanted to vomit. I knew it was coming, but hearing him say it out loud—well, not out loud, but in text—felt like a slap to the face. My hands were shaking now. Why the hell was he so obsessed with Elvis? Did he honestly think I was so easily swayed? I wasn’t some toy for him to break apart and put back together whenever he felt like it

“Oh yeah! What are you gonna say again huh?” “What are you saying Heather, I can’t do something of that such” “Those bags only contain cereals, chips and crisps?” “Why would you bring me cereals, chips and crisps? I can buy those on my own” “Listen Miss Heather, there must be a misunderstanding somewhere” “You might just be mistaken about the scenario. You just have to be calm and we will definitely track the stalker” “Are you trying to confuse my focus Sophia?” Heather grumbled slowly.

' thought Qeiza. “I’m going to work,” Qeiza said. “Can you let me go now?” “No, I can’t … before you forgive me.” “You’re a weird man!” grumbled Qeiza. “I don’t care how long you’ll sleep here, but … don’t get in my way!” Qeiza didn’t want to spend a lot of time being trapped in Ansel’s childish attitude. Once again she stomped even harder. She successfully escaped herself from the clutch of her ex-husband. She quickly moved away.

Leila slapped her hand against her forehead in a gesture that showed that she had forgotten something. "Oh. I wanted to get to the post office. The last time I've been there was ten months ago before I was made to stay indoors by your boss." She explained in a subjective tone. Both men looked at each other and nodded. They exchanged some words between them before Lorenzo expertly manoeuvred the car and headed in the direction of the post office. Both if them wondered if it was because she hadn't stepped out of the penthouse in ten months, so she probably wanted to do all she had to do before she was caged again by Vishal.

“No, Darren, I can’t, I won’t, just let me go, please, please, I am begging you, just let me go, why are you doing this to me, why are you obsessed with me, why me of all people, what is so broken inside your head that you think this is okay, that you think this is love, that you think this is anything but sick?” “You look like him, you sound like him, you know exactly what you are doing, you are twisting everything good I had, you are using his face and his body against me like it’s a weapon, and it’s killing me, Darren, it’s killing me. “I can’t even breathe looking at you because all I see is him and all I hear is him, but it’s not him, it’s you, and you are sick, you are so sick you need

Obsession felt like a sickness, something I couldn’t shake, something that turned my days into endless waiting, my nights into hours spent staring at the ceiling, aching and empty and full of wild, helpless want. I tried to tell myself to slow down. I tried to distract myself—read, clean, walk the block three times, do anything to outrun the thought that maybe he was done with me. That maybe, after all this, the thrill would fade and I’d be alone again, just a girl who wanted too much. It didn’t work. Every time I blinked, I saw his hands. Every breath, I tasted his skin, his sweat, the sharp bite of teeth on my throat. I hated myself for needing him this much. I loved it, too.

CHASE No one warns you that obsession doesn't come with an off switch. That even when the person you’ve watched, studied, and quietly adored from afar is lying in the next room, your mind will still circle her like a hawk, trying to protect what isn’t yet yours. When I saved her from that damned cliff, I remember thinking, this is it. This is how it ends for her. For us.