This Isn't About Him Novels & Stories

This wasn’t over. Not even close.

No longer would they allow themselves to be trampled—not this time. It wasn't the end, but a new beginning.

Just metal and meaning, resting on his palm. I did not speak. I waited. He placed it on the table between us, his fingers grazing the surface as if anchoring it there. “This is not a gift,” he said, voice quiet but steady. “And it’s not an offer that comes with strings.” I met his gaze. “This is not about strategy. Or convenience. It’s not even about the collection or the name or what happens in the next quarter. It’s about the fact that this space should never have belonged to anyone else. Not really. And I think you know that too.”

And so do I. This isn’t his game anymore. It’s mine.

“Because there are things you don’t know about what happened.” I laughed. “I know why. You wanted her instead of me. She is prettier, smarter and the real daughter. You couldn’t get anything from me at the end of everything. Simple as that.” “It’s not that simple” He looked around nervously, like someone might be listening. “Then what?” I snapped. “What possible explanation could make any of this better.” He looked around nervously, like someone might be listening. “I can’t explain here, not now.”

This was not over. Not even close.

Then he said, "Is time for the sacrifice." On his way out of the room, I asked "Who is going to be killed?". His jaw tightened. "I don't know" he answered stiffly. He lingered a little before leaving When he came back, he was wearing a frown. "Hermione is angry" he said. Hermione, the little old Priestess who predicted my name by sniffing at me. "Why is she angry?" I asked. He said nothing. "Is it anything concerning me?

He's not going to give in. There's so much more at stake now.

He had never had to do this before because of a woman, and this woman had not even spent a week under his roof. It was official, he was in trouble.

I get the bottle from him and poured in just a little, and then mixed it with cranberry juice. "Now it's like a little red wine," I grin after mixing it. "I seriously have never met a girl like you," He says. Oh no. "What do you mean?" I ask him before I took a sip from my drink. "The girls here at school, well, let's just say are too whiny and exaggerated," He shrugs. "Let's go find the others," I tell him. Oh Tristan, no. We're buds remember? We walked to their side of the lake and then he stops.