Page 122 of Lorcan's Obsession

I took the sugar and coffee out of the basket and shoved them on the nearest shelf. If the customer even came back this way, they would find their stuff. Then I snatched a random box (organic Cocoa Bunnies, apparently) and tossed it in the basket. For good measure, I added a box of Swiss muesli. Now I was ready to play mall detective.

Trailing her stealthily, I tried to reach her multiple times, but the throng of customers kept blocking me. At one point, the lady slowed down to pick up a box of spaghetti. Now was my chance to catch up. But before I got close enough to see her face, she was pushing her heaping trolley again and had turned off the next aisle.

How many times was this woman going to elude me? This was taking a lot longer than I planned. I wanted to push my way through and run up to her, just so I would know and be done! But I resisted temptation and continued my casual pace. Speed walking along all the aisles would attract unnecessary attention and jeopardize my plan.

Onto the next aisle. Pasta, marinara sauce, seasonings...but no sign of the mystery woman. Damn it. I’d lost her. Had she skipped this aisle, or had she finished shopping? Sure, I was curious, but not enough to look across forty aisles or more. Besides, that level of obsession would be creepy, especially since I had a hot girlfriend whom I adored completely.

So much for that quest. I looked down at my pitiful shopping basket. Might as well buy these to commemorate my stupidity. Then I would get a shot of espresso to nurse my ego until Tristen's bouquet was ready.

On my way to the florist, I spotted the mysterious lady with the red booty shorts once more, packing her groceries at a cashier counter. She was about one hundred yards from me. Could I finally satisfy my raging curiosity?

My eyes nearly burst from their sockets. I couldn’t run away fast enough to avoid her seeing me.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuuuck!

It was Tristen! That ass that I'd blindly been attracted to was the same one I had caressed and spanked countless times during sex. What could've been the fucking odds?

On instinct, I wanted to help her with the groceries. But Tristen probably wouldn’t take it too kindly that I’d been following her. In light of our call this afternoon, she would assume I was trying to sneak to her place early or had a tracker or something on her phone. Which wasn’t true, but my paltry shopping bag made me look super guilty.

So I spun on my heel and ducked into the crowd. The only option was to stay out of sight and wait for her to leave. Or so I convinced myself.

A shopping assistant wearing a bright yellow T-shirt offered to assist Tris with her trolley. Together, they left toward the parking lots. A curiosity of a different kind had camped in my brain. Where was she taking a trolley full of stuff? That was way more groceries than the two of us would need for the weekend.

She could be stocking up. She also has friends; maybe they’re having a party. She has a life outside of you.

All valid possibilities, but those didn't silence all the what-ifs bouncing around in my head. If her chauffeur Samir was waiting in the parking lot, then I would stop worrying. But if he was here, wouldn't I have seen him already? Samir seemed like the kind of loyal old gentleman who wouldn't let a lady shop alone.

Was someone else waiting for her then? Just…just one of her friends, right?

If I didn't move soon, Tristen would disappear from sight. I had to figure out what to do next. Indecision churned inside my stomach like a bunch of wriggling worms.

The little red devil perched on my shoulder whispered, "Call her. You know she'll probably lie about her location. Keep following her."

On my other shoulder, the tiny angel with glowing white wings murmured, "Trust her. She loves you. She is your future."

We all know who won.

It felt wrong stealthily hounding my girlfriend, but all reason had flown out the fucking window. All I cared about was knowing.

I checked my parking ticket’s level and row number. If we weren’t on the same floor, my hunt would hit another dead end.

Same floor.

The semi-enclosed parking structure smelled of leaked engine oils and exhaust fumes. Taking advantage of the rows of luxury cars, I ducked behind them and watched where she went. Nearby, a soft alarm beeped twice.

Was Tristen unlocking a car? Was it hers? All these months dating, and I didn't know if she owned one. That was an uncomfortable realization. Now that I thought about it, there were a lot of things about her day-to-day life I didn’t know. She'd been so good at deflecting whenever I enquired about the nitty gritty of her life.

Amber hazard lights illuminated the nearby wall. I craned my neck to check the make and model.

Holy fucking shit! What should greet my eyes but an icy Mercedes Benz G-fucking-Wagon! And not just any G-Wagon. This was a goddamn Brabus 900! That model had been pitched to me by the dealership the first week in Dubai. I knew every detail about it because I’d nearly bought that vehicle.

So how the hell did my darling student girlfriend afford it?

I closed my eyes, pressing my back against the concrete pillar next to me as my knees nearly gave out. My chest tightened, and my vision blurred.

There was no way Tristen, a fourth-year law student, with few part-time jobs, could buy the latest in a luxury car brand. So who got it for her? Who was "taking care" of her? Why didn't she come to me? I could have laid the goddamn world at her feet!

My blood boiled and roared with possessive jealousy and hurt. What else was she actively keeping away from me? Weren’t we exclusive? Could I even call her truly mine?

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