Too Good To Leave Too Bad To Stay Novels & Stories

“You can scream, thrash, fight all you want, but you are not leaving this place.” “Let me go!” I cried, my voice breaking into pieces. “I don’t want to stay here! I hate you—I hate all of this!” Zade rolled his eyes. “Are you done?” I glared at him, chest heaving. “Get out.” “No.” His voice was steel now. “First of all, you can’t leave. You will never leave. That’s not how this works. Second of all, if you want to survive here, if you want to be happy, even a little, you better start making this place feel like your home.”

"P-Please, stay? I promise, I'll be a good girl, when you say don't come out ... I won't come out." I saw him wanted to give in but stopping himself. I tried to avert my eyes but I could see the desperation to leave. "W-What can I do to make you stay?" "None." He was fisting his knuckles. It seems to be calming itself down to what. "H-I don't understand why you're leaving but please, please stay." "I will leave, Miss Baker. I got a bigger life than this, not my whole life will just revolve around you." He spatted hardly, not looking.

After saving money with Justin Pierre for five years, we finally went to view a house. My best friend, Maria Houston, came along too. "The master bedroom needs a walk-in closet. Can we knock down this wall?" she asked Justin while pointing at the floor plan I had been looking at for the past six months. "I'll get a designer to take a look tomorrow. You can change it however you want." The two of them discussed everything, from the direction the apartment faced to the tiles, from the floor-to-ceiling windows to the bathtub. Meanwhile, I stood in the corner, unable to get a word in. When it was time to sign the papers, he seemed to suddenly remember I was here and said, "We'll put this pla

Victoria Graham told me we'd have to postpone getting our marriage license again just as I was picking up my fork. Victoria set down her cutlery, her tone as casual as if she were commenting on the weather. "Next time." I took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. "Okay." She glanced at me, then lowered her head and reached for another bite. Before taking it, she looked up at me again. "You're not angry?" I took another bite and answered calmly, "I'm not." We'd been engaged for six months, and this was the 17th time she'd postponed getting our marriage license. She was used to it. So was I. I ate slowly and finished my meal, one mouthful at a time. She didn't touch her food again. After ta

You should thank them and leave before you fuck everything up for everyone around you. But I don’t want to leave yet. I feel like I belong here, what if I don’t leave ever? Am I being selfish? You’re going to leave because I’m going to make sure you fuck everything up and then I’m going to make sure they hunt you down and kill you slowly and painfully for being you. But what if they don’t want me to leave?