Page 73 of King of Obsession

When I climbed down, the outhouse roof gleamed with tidy rows of fresh tiles, a small bastion of order amid the chaos.

I allowed myself a brief surge of pride before actuality crashed back in. Cleo was still fuming inside her cabin, nursing her grudge like a dog worrying about a bone.

Sighing, I stowed the leftover supplies and trudged towards my SUV.

Resigned to a different reality, pulling out the sizable swag bag from my car.

I found a secluded spot in her backyard.

Setting up the tent was a mechanical process. My body moved on autopilot while my mind replayed her last words to me over and over.

I rehearsed awkward attempts at an apology in my head. In my past, making amends was simple - I’d never offered any.

Fuck.

I mulled the matter, eating tinned minestrone, before falling back into the sleeping bag.

Closing my eyes, I let the day’s events wash over me. It had been a roller coaster of emotions.

I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of admiration for her stubborn resolve, even as I grappled with the sting of rejection.

Cleo was a force to be reckoned with, and winning her overwouldn’t be easy.

I considered knocking again, demanding that she hear me out. But something told me that pushing too hard would only make things worse. No, I would have to play the long game to earn Cleo’s forgiveness.

Patience,I reminded myself.Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither were second chances.

I’d always taken pride in being in control and holding all the cards, but now I realized how fragile that illusion was.

The silence of the night was broken only by the distant howling of a solitary wild dog.

The irony wasn’t lost on me. I was a lone dingo now, cast out from the warmth of her cabin, left to fend for solo in the wilderness of my own making.

‘Cazzo,’ I groaned.

I missed her, longing for her scent, skin, eyes, and laugh.

This was torture, to be lying a stone’s throw from her, knowing I couldn’t see her. So close, yet so far.

Sleep eluded me all night, my thoughts consumed by the weight of my mistakes.

When the sun rose, painting the sky in hues of orange and red, I felt none of its warmth.

Just an icy chill and hollow emptiness that threatened to swallow me whole.

Jumpy as a skittish savage cat, I sat up in my cot.

Fuck the long game.

I needed a resolution for us now.

I had one play.

With a twist of my lips, I decided to use it.

I marched to her door and banged on it.

I was about to hit it once more when the door was wrenchedopen by a sleepy, angry woman.

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