Page 118 of Unholy Obsession

I swallow hard as I head to the kitchen to make myself something to eat.Don’t lie, you selfish bastard. I sigh. Of course, I want her obsessing over me every minute.

I pull out my phone and look at the text I sent her.

And frown when I see that it’s beenRead.

But still no dots showing her writing me back.

I stare at the fucking screen for five minutes, progressively feeling more and more unhinged.

After ten minutes, it’s clear. She left meon read.

My gut tightens.

I guess there’s a first time for everything.

HourThree

I text her again.

Me: If you’re ignoring me just to make me lose my mind, congratulations. It’s working.

Still nothing.

I scroll through our last conversation, looking for any indication that she was upset with me, that maybe I did something to piss her off.

But no. She was teasing me before bed last night. She wassoftwhen she woke up this morning, curling into me, mumbling about not wanting me to leave.

I check my call log. No missed calls from her.

I try calling. Straight to voicemail.

My jaw clenches.

Maybe her phone died after she read my message.

Maybe she’s busy.

Maybe she’savoiding me.

Maybe—God help me—she’s finally decided she’s had enough.

HourFive

I pace the length of my living room, my phone gripped in my fist. My mind is a battlefield, warring between logic and darker thoughts clawing at the edges.

If Moira was upset with me, she’d tell me. Loudly. She’dscreamat me. She wouldn’t go silent.

Wouldn’t she?

Unless sheran.

The thought is a lead weight in my gut.

Because I knew,I knew, this was a risk. She doesn’t do relationships. She doesn’t do permanence. And maybe she finally realized what I already knew?—

That she could do better than me.

That Iamtoo much. Too controlling. Too selfish. Too demanding.

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