Page 24 of Obsessing Over His Favorite
The images showed Lucas and Amelia—Amelia sitting in her bed, arms wrapped around his waist, clinging to him like her life depended on it. She was gazing up at him with wide, innocent eyes, as if she were the most fragile, helpless woman to ever walk the earth.
Emily's hand froze mid-air. Her heart dropped.
A dry scoff escaped her lips as she stared at the images. Her body went still.
“So this is why I’ve been feeling so strange about them all along,” she muttered to herself. “Amelia dropping by whenever she wants… calling him in the middle of the night… and Lucas going to her at the snap of a finger. Turns out, he’s been cheating on me with her all this time.”
She was still frozen, staring down at the photos, when the heavy thud of footsteps echoed from the hallway.
Emily’s heart jumped into her throat. She quickly scrambled to gather the photos, shoving them back into the envelope. But she’d barely managed to scoop them up when Lucas entered the room.
Her back straightened instantly. She clutched the photos behind her, trying to act casual.
But his sharp eyes immediately caught the tension in her stance.
“What are you hiding?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly, her grip tightening on the photos as she backed toward the dresser.
Lucas crossed the room in two strides. His tall frame towered over her, casting a shadow across her face as his hand moved behind her and snatched the envelope from her grip.
Some photos slipped and scattered onto the floor. Others remained in his hands. He stared down at them, flipping through with a tightening jaw.
His entire body went still.
Then his eyes snapped to hers, blazing.
Emily flinched under the weight of his stare.
“Are you really doing this again?” he barked. “How many damn times have I told you to stop stalking me?! Can’t you be a little more mature for once?”
Emily’s heart pounded in her chest.
‘Again?’
Her mind reeled. ‘This has happened before? I was the one following him? Watching him? But I didn’t hire anyone. I didn’t ask anyone to take these photos. Then who did? And if this has happened before, how many times has he done things like this with Amelia?’
He slammed his palm on the dressing table, the photos sliding across the surface.
She looked from the photos to his face.
“You’re not even going to explain?” she asked quietly. “Those pictures. You, in the middle of the night, with Amelia wrapped around you like that?”
‘If we were together—if we were in a relationship—wasn’t it his job to at least make me feel secure? To stay away from the one person he knew made me uncomfortable?’ the thought struck her at once.
Lucas’s jaw clenched. His fists curled at his sides.
“How many times have I told you to stop being so damn jealous, Emily?” he snapped, his voice sharp and rising. “Stop dragging me into these pointless arguments!”
He was seething now, breath uneven.
“There’s nothing going on between me and Amelia! How many times do I have to say the same damn thing before you finally get it?”
But his words weren’t new.
They echoed in her mind like memories on repeat.
“Emily, her mom asked me to look after her on their deathbed. She doesn’t have any relatives anymore.”
