Obsession With An Ex Novels & Stories

I looked at him shocked, what did he just say? I really don’t understand him. Adrian looked at me then, I could see guiltiness written clearly in his eyes. “I am often obsessed with things. You remembered when you asked me about my love with Louis Vuitton products? I’m obsessed with the products and if what I have isn’t from them, I won’t be happy and I will go through any length to have that. When I started talking to you, it wasn’t like that at first, not until I noticed my feelings for you. Even though I was denying it then, it didn’t stop my obsession from crawling in. I noticed that when I am not with you, I miss you a lot and if I don’t hear your voice and see anything about you, I won

I continue. "I don’t know," he responds after a long pause. "I don’t know what the fuck is going on with me lately, but every time I look at you, I want to monopolize you. The thought of you being with another man drives me crazy. You’re on my mind all the damn time, even if I don’t want you there, and when I tell myself I’ll just forget you, I can’t. What the hell would you even call this? Obsession? Infatuation? Would it be like? It’s all new to me."

"First off, I am married. Secondly, what I do with Ethan is none of your business." He walked up to me. His nose brushed mine. My heart skipped. "Every day, my attraction towards you gets deeper. It's safe to say I am obsessed with you, Lydia." My heart pounded. I moved away. "David, please leave. We are done, and there is nothing I can do about it. My heart belongs to someone else." I looked away, even though my heart said something else. I wasn't ready to break my walls for a man who betrayed years of my commitment to him. I was done.

However, when she saw the name written below it, she spontaneously dropped the card. [Ansel Ivander Malik] “Oh My God! He keeps disturbing me,” she grumbled. Ansel’s behaviors really made her dizzy. She had forgotten her ex-husband, why did Ansel still pester her with a cradle of love that could no longer be welcomed? “Wait!” Qeiza called back the office boy who had just brought her a cup of coffee. “What can I do for you, Miss?” he asked. “Did you have breakfast?” Qeiza asked him back. The office boy shook his head.

His Adam's apple bobbed violently before he finally spoke in a rough, unfamiliar voice. "My love... that's not true. I didn't do it. They were lying. I didn't do it, I swear." He slowly stood and approached her, desperately trying to justify something Iris didn't even understand. But when she noticed emotions on his usually cold face... Maybe madness. Maybe obsession. She wanted to run. Immediately. She turned around and hurried toward the door. Memories that didn't belong to her flashed through her mind, mirroring exactly what was happening now. "No, wait, Iris! Please!!"

he stopped after saying. His eyes were getting teary as well. He was looking at the floor. His head was filled with guilts. He had lost his first mate Isabella in a war with the Sapphires before he met my mom. I knew he loved my mom a lot, even more than his own life. But we just simply could never deny the fact that a wolf's obsession for its actual mate never dies. It was the same in case of my father. Even though he loved my mom, still the lose of his first mate never left him.

Bearable. And I was 32. Not getting any younger. My parents wanted me married. Settled. Responsible. Whatever that means. And frankly, she was the only woman who didn't exhaust me within five minutes. I was used to her presence. Three and a half years of working side by side did that. Having her around 24/7 would only make my work easier. Yes, it was selfish. I know it. But I'm not a saint. Never claimed to be one.

“Now? I probably drink until I forget. Or until I hate him enough to stop caring.” “That doesn’t sound healthy.” I let the silence settle between us. The bar’s dim lights painted shadows on the floor, and my buzz was just strong enough to make everything blur at the edges. I leaned forward again, fingers toying with the condensation on my glass. “You ever get so obsessed with someone,” I murmured, “that it’s not even about them anymore? It’s about how they make you feel. How they pull out the ugliest parts of you, and you still keep crawling back like a sick little dog looking for scraps.”

He was such a complex man. "What do you think obsession is?" he asked, locking his stormy eyes onto mine. I was caught off guard by his question. "Obsession?" "Yes," he replied immediately. No hesitation. No smile. "Well, I think it's uh..." I chewed my bottom lip. "An unhealthy fixation. Like the... the strong influence. A compulsion. The desire to have full possession of something or someone," I explained, carefully selecting my words. "It can also be linked to mental illness."