Page 177 of Divine Obsession

Whatever came next, I’d burn the world down before I let it touch her.

The bathroom was warm, filled with the faint scent of vanilla and steam. Natalia sat in the oversized tub, her knees drawn to her chest, her arms loosely wrapped around them. Her head rested on her arms, her brown hair damp and clinging to her neck and shoulders. She hadn’t spoken much, but I didn’t push. She didn’t need words right now – she needed me.

I knelt beside the tub, the water lapping gently at the porcelain as I reached for the sponge floating near the edge. “Lean forward,amai,” I said softly, my voice low enough to not startle her.

Her gaze flicked to me, her brown eyes glassy and unreadable, but she moved forward so her back was exposed.

The sponge was warm and soft against my hand as I dipped it in the water and squeezed it, letting the water cascade down her back. Her olive skin was smooth, her breathing steady but shallow, like she was trying not to think too hard about the moment.

I moved slowly, carefully, running the sponge over her back in gentle circles, rinsing away the weight of the day. She didn’t move, didn’t flinch, just let me take care of her.

“You okay?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

She nodded once, her hair shifting with the motion.

I reached for the small bottle of shampoo, pouring some into my hands and working it through her damp hair. It was something to show her I was here. My fingers worked carefully, the silky strands slipping through my hands like threads of gold. When I rinsed her hair, she let out a small sigh, but it was enough to tell me she was starting to feel lighter – even if just a little. I repeated with conditioner.

Setting the sprayer aside, I rested my forearms on the edge of the tub, my head tilting to catch her gaze. “You want to get out?”

She nodded, and I used a towel to help dry her off once she stepped out onto the fluffy white mat. Her eyes flicked to mine, soft and tired, but the corners of her mouth tugged upward in the faintest trace of a smile. “Thank you, baby,” She murmured, her voice raw but sincere.

I nodded, my chest tightening at the vulnerability in her tone. “Always.”

Pulling her into me, I held her close, wishing I could feel the pain for her, so she wouldn’t have to.

The bedroom was dark, quiet shadows on the walls from the city behind the drawn curtains. Natalia lay curled into my side, her head resting on my chest, her breath warm and uneven against my skin. She felt fragile in my arms, like she might shatter if I held her too tightly.

Her forehead was still warm, the lingering heat from hours of crying. She hadn’t said much since the bath – just let me guide her to bed, where she sank into the covers like the weight of the world had finally pushed her down too far to fight it.

I brushed a strand of caramel hair off her face, my fingers barely grazing her skin. Her lashes were dark against her cheeks, her lips parted slightly as she fought to breathe evenly. She wasn’t asleep yet, but she was close. I could tell by the way her body softened against me, her muscles slowly surrendering.

The silence between us was intimate. Each breath she took, each beat of her heart, was right next to mine.

I adjusted my arm, pulling her a little closer, my other hand resting lightly on her back. She sighed softly, nestling deeper into me, her fingers clutching onto my chest. I brushed my lips to the top of her head. I let her feel my presence, my warmth, the steady rhythm of my heartbeat under her.

Minutes passed, her breaths growing steadier. Sleep finally claimed her, her grip on me loosening, her body melting into mine.

I stared at the ceiling, one hand tracing idle patterns on her back. I’d never let anything touch her – not now, not ever.

As her breaths evened out completely, my chest tightened with something I couldn’t put into words. Raw and consuming. I’d burn the world to protect my love.

Leaning down, I pressed a soft kiss to her temple, lingering for a moment.

Her scent, her warmth, her trust – they were all enough to ground me.

And as she lay there, completely at peace for the first time in hours, I vowed to keep it that way.

The morning was cold, a kind of sharp chill. Natalia took a step in front of me, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. In the quiet memorial park, the air smelled of damp earth and faintly of flowers, but it did nothing to soften the heaviness hanging over us.

I hadn’t told her how I found the location. She didn’t ask.

A modest headstone stood before us, the name etched into the granite –Anabella Ricci.

Natalia sank to her knees, her fingers brushing over the carved letters of her mother’s name.

I stayed a step back, giving her the space she needed, but ready to close the gap if she needed me.

Her voice was barely a whisper, “I don’t even know if I hate her anymore.”

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