Page 54 of King of Obsession

He glanced at me, his eyes unreadable. ‘And how does that work? They check up on you from time to time?’

I shrugged, a smile tugging at my lips as I thought of the kind-hearted pair. ‘We chat over the fence sometimes, swap recipes and gardening tips. But they make sure I’m still kicking. If they don’t see me for a day or two, they’ll come knocking, just to be certain.’

He hummed, his fingers drumming against his thigh. ‘Bene. I like that they care. That you’ve got someone looking out for you.’

I tilted my head, studying him. ‘I’m glad we meet with your approval, oh wise King,’ I taunted.’

He huffed, but his intensity of narrowed eyes made me wonder what he was thinking.

‘It is good,’ I agreed. ‘But like I said, I can handle myself. I’m not seeking for anyone to save me.’

His gaze met mine, a flash of something fierce and protective in their depths. ‘I know you can. But everyone needs an ally in their corner. Even the strongest among us.’

I swallowed hard, my heart doing a funny flip in my chest. He held my glance for a long moment, something unspokenpassing between us before he spoke again.

‘Your face is sad, cara,’ he murmured, his voice rasped and intimate.

I fought the urge to look away.

His words, spoken in a timbered burr, like a caress against my skin.

I couldn’t remember when somebody had taken note of my sadness and cared enough to comment.

‘I’m fine,’ I lied after a beat, stammering, the monotone automatic, a reflex born of years of practice.

He studied me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine. I had the unsettling inkling that he perceived all of me and knew how not fine I was.

‘You don’t have to pretend with me,’ he said with quiet emphasis, his gaze never leaving my face. ‘I know what it’s like to carry pain, to feel like you’re all alone in the world.’

His words hit me like a gut punch, stealing my breath from my lungs.

How might he understand the depths of my loneliness, the aching void that ruled my existence for so long?

I opened my mouth to respond, but my self-doubt kicked in. All utterance escaped me, helpless as I gazed into his eyes.

Raw, exposed.

He’d somehow managed to strip away all my constructed defenses with just a few simple phrases.

And yet, even as I sat before him more vulnerable than I had in years, I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of something else. Something that bordered dangerously close to hope.

I blinked, trying to keep the tears at bay. I wouldn’t cry in front of him. I couldn’t.

For so long I’d painted calm on my face, keeping mycomposure, like everything was cool.

Crying was a weakness I couldn’t afford to show, not even to this man who appeared to see straight into my soul.

‘You don’t know anything about me,’ I said, my voice rough with emotion. ‘You don’t know what I’ve been through, what I’ve lost. You may have stalked me from afar but never saw me, not into my core. No one ever did!’

I spat the words with some venom, dialing down after a beat, realizing how petulant I sounded. ‘I had no parenting to speak of, and my grandparents, though kind, were too told for me to bother with my problems.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘You’re right. I don’t know your story. But I know what it’s like to feel alone, like you’re carrying the world’s weight on your shoulders.’

Gazing into his eyes, I detected a depth of suffering that matched my own—anguish that spoke of loss, heartbreak, and loneliness that can break a person.

It blew me away when he continued. ‘I lost my father years ago. He and my mother were killed in a car bomb.’

I inhaled, rocked to the core.

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