The Thing That Wouldn't Leave Novels & Stories

Leaving seemed impossible. Was this the end for us?

And despite everything I had gone through Despite everything I didn’t want to feel Despite everything that told me to run I knew one thing clearly. I didn’t want him to leave. Not now. Not later. Not at all.

It was as if the last trace of warmth inside me had been drained, leaving only a cold, empty shell. Yasmin's madness and obsession had corrupted every vestige of the beauty that once existed between us, and the poison had finally seeped into my own heart. Yet I felt as if my life had stopped forever on that snowy winter night—the night I once thought I could spend forever with her.

Felt something settle in my chest. Not peace. Not forgiveness. Just certainty. "I'm leaving," I said again.

I push. He remains confused, blinking for a moment as if fishing his mind for clues. Clues I gladly give him. "Not that leaving itself is the problem. It is how you do it- without a word," I pressed, "I have no wolf, remember? I cannot sense when you leave. So... oftentimes, I remain oblivious and keep the conversation, only to realize I'm talking to myself." I watch his expression dissolve into that of understanding, then acknowledgment, then something more peculiar, a shade of embarrassment.

Her pregnancy was still unstable, so she had to be hospitalized for the next few days. Clarence stuck to her side all day and all night like a leech, which gave me space to breathe. I returned home and pawned off some valuable items that I had. Although Grace constantly boasted to her circle that she often bought branded watches and accessories for me, George took everything away from me. His excuse was that there was no need for me to store so many valuable items in the house when I rarely participated in social events. He also checked through every transaction that I made with the monthly allowance that Grace gave me. It was why I couldn't touch the money in that account now.

Alexander Li Chen I didn’t leave because I wanted to. I left because the line I’d sworn never to cross was behind me now, and I couldn’t let myself linger on the wrong side of it. The air outside the gym felt colder, harsher, like the city itself had been waiting for me to slip. Everything I thought I had under control… a careful plan, a rigid code, even my goddamn pulse, was suddenly up for grabs.

"Then what were you trying to do?" "Protect myself." "From what?" "From this. From feeling too much." "Why is that so bad?" "Because I don't do this. I don't let people in." "Why not?" "Because everyone leaves eventually." "I'm not everyone." "You don't know that. You can't promise that." "Yes I can." "No. You can't. People always leave. They get bored. Find someone better. Realize I'm not worth the effort." "That's not true."

The one that holds on and doesn't let go. "Let's go home," I say.

Something that wasn't going away. It was a start.