Page 91 of Whispers of Obsession

I wipe away my tears and take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart, which is heavy with the weight of what I’ve done.

“What about your mom? Can we stay with her?” he asks calmly.

How can he be so calm? I’m a mess. A wreck. I’m falling apart.

I think for a moment, then nod. “Yes, we can. But can we…can we not tell her about any of this?”

“Of course. Are you okay to keep driving?”

I nod.

We drive in silence, the weight of our actions and the fear of what might come hanging heavy in the air.

When we finally arrive at my mom’s house, she’s waiting on the porch, her eyes wide with concern when she sees us. “What happened?” she asks, her voice filled with worry.

Slater and I exchange a glance, and I know we’re both thinking the same thing: should have used the drive over to come up with a believable story.

I take a deep breath and try to gather my thoughts. “Slater, uh, had a little car accident on the way home. He was driving, and well, he got pretty beat up, and he’s shaken,” I lie, hoping it’s enough to satisfy my mom’s curiosity and explain why Slater’s in her car and not his own.

She nods, concern etched on her face, but she doesn’t press the issue. “Well, come on in, you two look like you could use some comfort.”

We follow her inside, and she ushers us to the living room. “I’ll go fix you guys some hot chocolate,” she says, concern still apparent in her voice, but she gives us space nonetheless.

Neither of us says a word.

My mom returns with the steaming mugs of hot chocolate, placing one in front of me and one in front of Slater. “Drink up, you two,” she says, concern still in her voice, but her eyes have grown weary from the weight of unsaid words. “Cora, I’m glad you’re back. Work has called me in, I have a meeting with the bosses about the investigation, and I need to head over there. Have you got my keys?”

“Uhh, sure.” My head’s spinning as I fish them out of my pocket and hand them over to her.

“I’m glad you’re both okay, but we will talk about how Slater got into a car accident and magically changed clothes, when I get back,” she says firmly. “Right now, saving my job is more important than whatever lies you’re both telling me.”

Oh, shit.

My mom leaves and the shock of what I’ve done begins to sink in as I stare at the carpet. In my mind, I’m back in Sean’s basement, staring not at our threadbare carpet but at Heather’s lifeless body at my feet. My hands are shaky, the knife still clutched tightly in my grasp. Sean’s aunt lies there, her eyes vacant and accusing.

“Cora? Cora!”

I try to speak, to explain, but the words stick in my throat. Slater shakes me back to the present, his expression unreadable. I brace myself for his anger, for his revulsion at what I’ve done. But instead, he reaches out and gently takes my face in his hands.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, pulling me into a tight embrace. “You saved me, Cora. You saved me.”

Tears stream down my face as I cling to him, finally allowing myself to let go of the fear and guilt.

“I love you, Cora,” Slater whispers. “So fucking much. You have no idea. I’m so proud of you for saving me. You were so strong, Cora. So amazing.”

I realize that I would do anything to protect Slater, even if it means losing a part of myself in the process.

Because I love him too.

42

CORA

It’s been nearly three weeks since...everything happened. I asked Slater about Heather’s body, but his response was cryptic, leaving me with more questions than answers. He assured me not to worry, claiming he had it handled, but the uncertainty gnaws at the edges of my mind, making me restless and unsettled.

The mention of his father only adds to the tension between us. Slater’s gaze darkens with barely contained rage at the mere mention of him, a silent reminder of the secrets that lie buried beneath the surface. Despite his absence, his threatening presence looms over us like a dark cloud, casting a pall over our fragile peace of mind.

In spite of Slater’s comforting presence, the weight of recent events hangs heavy over us, casting a shadow on our budding relationship. Each night, as we seek solace in each other’s arms, the echoes of our shared trauma linger in the air, haunting our thoughts and dreams.

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