The Objection Of My Affection Novels & Stories

"And I don't like my things being handled by anyone else. Not by Leo, or anyone." The jealousy in his voice was a mirror of my own, but sharper, more lethal. I looked at him, my vision blurring with tears and something else, a heat that was rising in my gut, responding to the way he was crushing me against the wood. "I am not an object," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I am not a specimen." "Aren't you?" he countered. He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear. "Then why is your heart racing like this? Why are you leaning into me? You want to be my object so bad?"

"He was on his knees, begging me to let him see you one last time. He said that even though the two of you never made it official over the past ten years, he never once intended to let you down. He also said Emily was just a mistake, a moment of weakness..." I cut her off. "Danna, that's enough. He forgot I'm allergic to mangoes. He has always cared more about my background than he admits. A man like that isn't worth keeping." She was quiet for a long while. "You're right. He's the one who ruined it. But Laura, are you really sure? Marriage is a lifetime commitment." "I'm sure," I said without hesitation. "At least Andre has never let me down." After the call ended, I turned my gaze to the c

“To be in your arms like before…” “That’s not love, Mia,” I said firmly, yanking my hand back as if every second of contact burned my skin. “That’s obsession. Sick. You can’t accept that I’ve moved on.” Her eyes gleamed with a mix of frustration and anger, but she still tried to take another step. “I can give you children… your own blood, if that’s what you want,” she said in a broken voice, trying to press her body against mine again.

he scrutinized, his gaze intense and unwavering. "You are marrying her? How can I stop that?" I insisted, struggling to find suitable words to excuse myself. The urgency in my voice betrayed my desperation, but my mind was a whirlwind of helplessness. I knew my objection was irrational, yet the thought of losing you to someone else felt unbearable and I couldn't think properly. "I said 'I love you' before marrying her," he asserted firmly. "You didn't even think of that before running away." He stood his ground, emphasizing his heartfelt declaration and defending his actions with unwavering conviction.

Raised together. “They are very affectionate. Very very good. After many years, it still doesn't fade. Special terms but also capitalized. Outstanding.” "That is enough. I don't want to be a talkative person to find out about other people's love stories. This story ends here. That kind of love is enough. So work seriously. No more mistakes can be made.” "It's not good to have too many things. Knowing too much will only add to the trouble." [The host is clear. Last time the host spent a lot of time on meaningless things. The app doesn't know if affection is necessary for the host, but according to the app, it doesn't make any sense.]

I don’t want him to keep being angry at me, so I force myself to relax. “Lily, that has never been my issue,” I admit, shrugging because I don’t care if that makes me sound conceited, “Even when you were trying your hardest to convince me you were actually fucking her, I didn’t believe it. I know you only have eyes for me. It’s just annoying that you have… any kind of affection for another girl. I should be the only one.”

"Your Grace, my wish to marry you is not out of gratitude for the help you gave my mother, nor for the shelter you offered us. I… I like you." At that, I looked at him quickly. His cheeks were now fully flushed, like the evening sky tinged with the red of sunset. I felt heat rise in my own face as well—I was likely no better off than he. "I had meant to give up," he went on. "I didn't want to trouble you any further, nor cause harm to your good name. But the other day, when Lady Carissa said I couldn't tell the difference between gratitude and affection—that I sought marriage out of misplaced debt—I realized she was mistaken."

Love is my weakness and I want to get rid of this weakness. Harley won't make me strong. She is not that type of woman and it will be unheard of me to say that I love her. It is just a f***ing attraction or lust or whatever it is. Not love. I can't love her. I don't have the heart to love anymore. I am sure this attraction will fade away gradually and I will barely remember how it once felt. Expelling a deep sigh, I open my eyes, motivating myself inwardly. The moment I lean forward to open my laptop and begin work again, a knock comes on the door.

****** ~Selene The way he was reasoning this marriage was making me go absurdly mad at him, can't he understand that I had no interest in this marriage. "I had said this multiple times, still I am repeating this again for you. Listen carefully. I am not going to marry you at any cost. I respected our friendship and that's why I was silent and hadn't reacted adequately to all the nonsense you are uttering. Why can't you understand? I never loved you, I don't love you in present and in upcoming future also I will never be loving you. I can't marry a person I don't love."

“Choose the baby. Choose the future. I’ll stand by you. I’ll raise the child as my own. Together, we’ll be untouchable.” I looked at her then—really looked. And in that moment, I knew. This was not love. This was ambition wearing a familiar face. “You’re wrong,” I said firmly. “About me. About her. About everything.” Ginevra frowned. “You’re letting emotion blind you.” “No,” I replied, shaking my head. “Emotion is the only thing keeping me human.” I turned away from her, my steps heavy but resolute, moving toward the emergency room doors.