The Guilt Trip Novels & Stories

“Why the fuck did you do that? Where the fuck did my nine million dollars go?” “Because I felt like I failed you. You hired me as your friend when no one wanted to hire me. I bloody kept that guilt for three years. I failed you over and over again, and I couldn’t figure out who had been stealing from the company. I wish I figured it out before you found out, but—” He shook his head in despair. I’d never seen him so ashamed and full of guilt. “It’s too late.” “Why did you meet my father again?”

9Gabriel. Guilt is a steady drumbeat that won’t stop pounding, no matter how many times I try to silence it. It sits under my skin, pulses in my veins, makes every moment feel like I’m holding my breath underwater. This morning, after Mara slips out of the rectory; hair wild, lips bitten, face flushed with the triumph of secrets, I sit at my desk with my head in my hands, every part of me aching for something I know I shouldn’t want. I thought sin would feel sharp and electric. I didn’t expect it to feel so heavy.

For heaven's sake I was trying to forgive her and give us a chance back then, but looking at the mess I guess maybe I should have listened to her side. Because when I tried to defend my side on that day she didn't even listened. I felt at the moment karma is really a bitch. On that day when she saw me in that state I was drugged by that fucking whore and she took advantage of my state. That's one of the reason why I couldn't able to talk properly. Maybe guilt too. But the moment I saw her I got all of my fucking senses back. It took me a while but the moment I gained it that slut had to ruin it by opening her big good for nothing mouth.

Because I didn’t just steal from a house, I stole from someone who trusted me with his heart. Someone who once said, “Even if the world turned its back on you, I won’t.” And now? He was gone and vanished into thick smoke. Not because he hated me for sure, but because I broke something he believed in. And trust me, guilt has a way of rotting you from the inside, worse than going to jail. It shows up in dreams, in the tightness in your chest when you hear his name, and in the way even food tastes like cardboard because nothing feels right anymore.

“Don’t you ever say that.” “I’ve been stressed… I shouldn’t have argued with you. Or worked late. Or…” “Stop.” His voice cracked through the air, raw and sharp. “This isn’t your fault. Do you understand me? Not one bit of it.” But guilt kept crawling up my throat like poison. I couldn’t help it. All I could think about were the long nights, the press leak, the tension, the fear of being watched. Every single second I spent worrying instead of resting felt like a sin I might be punished for.

" Yeah. You trapped me in my guilt for stabbing you.. That's why... I gave into you." She really believes it. Doesn't she? That I guilt trapped her.. She really believes that I need to guilt trip women to touch them. especially to touch someone like her who sells men body for a few dollars. Is she really that disgusted with me that she needs to gaslight herself into believing that I trapped her?

Whatever she found must have satisfied her because she relaxed further, her weight settling fully on my lap. "You don't have to overspend on me just because you feel guilty." "I don't feel guilty." I corrected her immediately. "I feel grateful. There's a difference." "Is there?" "Yes. Guilt is about the past. What I feel is about the present. About you sitting here in my lap, letting me touch you, letting me be part of Ethan's life." Her breath caught, her pupils dilating. "You're saying a lot of pretty words." "They're not pretty words if they're true."

the lawyer scolded me. -"Ι always have other alternatives" I said smugly and stood up heading for the prison door. I gave him a derogatory look and knocked the door. Two guards showed up and walked me back to my cell. I lay down on my bed and started working on my plan. I can't trust myself in this lawyer. He is totally incompetent! In fact I can't trust anyone anymore!

" That's not good. " " Um.. even when I confronted them, they didn't feel an ounce of guilt. They to guilt-trip me. " " How? " " They claimed that I always ruin their day with my complaints, they claimed that I always behaved like I was the only one in pain. They claimed that I was too selfish and I only cared about myself. " " But I don't think you are. " " Perhaps you are only saying this because you don't know me well, you just saw me today so how could you be so sure? "

Speechless, I slumped down to sit at my table, feeling the pain of stupidity and heartbreak surging in me as I reluctantly admitted that it was, indeed… my fault. Subconsciously, my hand rose in frustration, messing my hair while I stared at the floor. “Fuck it!” All I could say now was curses as I pushed more things out of my desk. “It’s guilt! This stupid guilt!” I shouted while slapping my chest, trying to relieve the unbearable heaviness and pressure in my heart. Hearing the approaching footsteps and seeing Henry’s familiar shoes, I looked up in grief. He had his brows furrowed. “Guilt? What are you talking about?”