Put Yourself In His Shoes Novels & Stories

It just leaves me cold. “Don’t make me hurt you. This isn’t funny, Alexi.” It’s a raw moment of strained emotion as he appears more amused by the second and he pulls a shoe out of my hand and drops it on the floor in front of me, motioning to put it on. I slap the other one in his chest for him to hold, realising wearing shoes might be an advantage and glare some more. Still trying to maintain that haughty demeanour and not let him see how much I’m truly hurting inside.

He threw the blanket aside and got out of bed. I immediately turned my face away for half a second because of course he wasn’t wearing anything. The man had the modesty of a predator and the shame of a marble statue. “Put something on,” I said sharply. “You didn’t mind last night.” I picked up the men’s shoe on the floor near my foot. Black Oxford. Heavy. Expensive. A much more convincing weapon than my heel. I threw it. This time, it hit. Sadly, it didn’t hit his face, but it smacked into his shoulder with a satisfying thud. He let out a low laugh, and it made me seriously consider throwing the other shoe too.

“The floor is too hot. It will burn your sole.” “Well, that’s actually better than burning yours or twisting your ankle. Just wear this, I will be fine,” he shrugged. “No...” I tried speaking, but before I could protest further, he took my hand and helped me step into his shoes. Though the shoes were bigger than my feet, they were comfy and warm. Warm from his body heat. “There we go! Don’t worry about tripping because of the big size. I’ll always be there to grab you before you can fall,” he joked, standing upright with a smile on his face.

My eyes drifted to her ankles, it seemed red, almost swollen. Dropping one knee to the floor, I reached for her shoes. My fingers worked on the buckles, then I carefully unfastened them, peeling the heels from her legs. She let out a sigh of relief. “I wonder when you grew so empathetic. You know, putting yourself in one's shoes,” She teased. “I don't know anything about that and I don't give a fuck about them.” “Fuck you. You know I'm not talking about shoes!” Her bag attacked me, hitting my head.

“Here.” I blinked. “What?” “You can’t walk in those heels. Put these on.” I stared at the sneakers, then at him. “You’re joking.” He sighed. “You’re going to act stubborn, even right now?” I folded my arms. “You think I’m going to wear shoes from your car?” “Clean ones,” he said quickly. “Brand new. I keep a spare pair for the gym. Unless you’d rather hobble to wherever it is you're headed and back on one functional heel?”

he said calmly. If looks could kill, he'd be buried six feet under. "You only said one condition," I reminded him. "I changed my mind," he shrugged, pulling out a pair of shoes. "Clean these shoes, make sure they sparkle, and I will consider whether to admit you or not," he ordered. "You've got to be kidding me, can't you clean them yourself? Do I look like a maid to you?" I retorted. "I didn't say so, but if you feel like one, it's your problem. There is a napkin on that shelf, use it and clean the shoes," he said, unfazed.

I said quickly. He frowned. “Just wear a dress. It’s better. And what’s your shoe size? I’ll order new shoes, too.” “I’m okay with the shoes I have,” I said stubbornly. “You wouldn’t have tripped if you weren’t wearing those thin heels.” “I’m used to them; I just didn’t watch where I was walking.” “Because you weren’t looking where you were going.” I thought, I was only looking at you. “Stay here for now. I’ll call my shopper,” Travis said before heading out again.

What will it do if I add another harmful story to it. I have no hope for the future. There's nothing that can come up again. I knelt down in front of him, feeling inferior to the wealthy man. His shoes likely shine brighter than my entire being. I hesitantly bow my head, preparing to humble myself further. But just as I'm about to touch his leg, he suddenly pulls it away, leaving me bewildered and frightened. I look up at him, wondering if he's had a change of heart. Is he going to humiliate me and cost me my job?

He stood behind me placing his hands on either side of the railing, afraid I may climb again. "I'll not sit again," I said, looking up at him. A shoe fell from my hand, I quickly moved back and turned to face him. "I dropped my shoe." He laughed at my words and bend his head above me to look. "Let's go." He said, turning around. "I cannot walk barefoot." "Want me to carry you?" He quirked his brows.

“Keep my shirt on but put something else on as well.” Nodding, I pull out fresh underwear and a pair of shorts, then, I slip on the sandals I brought with me. He holds me again, as I rest against his body. “Feel better now you have shoes on?” he whispers. I nod, I don’t know why, but I do. I feel like I can run if needed. “Good, you just need to know you have your way out, and you do, baby girl, just say, and we will let you go.”