Page 59 of His To Unravel
The device beeps softly, signaling the completion of the process. I stare at the screen, my reflection distorted in its darkened glass—a quiet reminder of the lengths I’ve gone to, the boundaries I’ve crossed. There’s no regret in me, only satisfaction—a sense of triumph, knowing I’ve taken another vital step in ensuring our future together.
Others might call this madness.Obsession.
They don’t understand.
I’m safeguarding what’s precious, securing what others might discard or take for granted. In my world, love isn’t a passive sentiment; it’s an active, relentless pursuit. A promise I intend to keep, regardless of what it requires from me.
I slip her phone back onto the table, positioning it exactly as it was, careful to leave no trace of my intrusion.
She shifts slightly, her hand brushing the pillow, and I freeze, waiting for her breathing to even out again. When it does, I reach out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. My fingers trace the curve of her cheek with a reverence that borders on worship.
“Mine,” I whisper, low and sure—a vow that no force could sever.
Then, I settle beside her, letting my hand hover over hers, just shy of contact. This closeness, the knowledge that I can protect her in ways she may never understand—this is what gives me purpose.
As I lie beside her, a strange calm settles over me, one borne from the belief that with each action, I am tightening the weave of the world we’ll share. I will be her constant, her only unyielding foundation, the force she will always return to.
And if she ever dares to change her mind…Well, she won’t.Not when I’m through.
I’ve beenawake for a while, watching as my sweet Olivia sleeps beside me, her face relaxed, nestled against the pillow with a serenity that belongs to her alone. She looks untouched, as though the world couldn’t possibly intrude upon her here. The thought soothes something within me, even as the rest of me remains alert, churning.
I haven’t slept. My mind circles around last night’s meticulousactions that granted me access to a part of her world she keeps unknowingly vulnerable. With her phone now mirrored on my own device, I find my hand reaching, my fingers already poised to unlock it.
I swipe open my phone, the cloned messages filling the screen in neat little rows. A world of secrets, trivial to anyone else but essential to me.
Starting with the innocuous messages, I scroll through her chats with Sophie and Carolyn, notes on weekend plans, inside jokes. Each line draws me deeper into her life, adding to my understanding of her routines, her connections, her distractions.
But then… I see a string of messages from Landon.
Landon.
The very thought of him makes my teeth clench. The man has already crossed lines, dared to challenge my place in her life. Now, here he is again, with his pathetic attempts to claw his way back, to present himself as someone she should care about.
I begin reading the texts. They’re drenched in contrition, laced with desperation. Apologies, pleas, all carefully worded to scrape at her sympathy.
Landon
I shouldn’t have touched you. I crossed a line. Please forgive me, Olivia. I don’t want to lose you as a friend.
If I could turn back time, I would have never said what I said… I shouldn’t have told you how I feel…but it’s the truth, Olivia. I care about you, more than I’ve cared about anyone.
How he feels?
I grip my phone tighter, a wave of cold, calculated rage surging through me. So he confessed his feelings to her, played his hand.He dared to stake a claim, however feeble, and she…she kept it from me.
The knowledge twists within me, a paradox of emotions. Part of me feels a thrill—a satisfaction that she, in her own way, understood enough to shield this from me.
Did she worry about my reaction? Did she sense that I’d tear down anyone who poses a threat, no matter how harmless they seem?
“You deliberately kept this from me, didn’t you, Olivia?” I murmur softly, my gaze flickering to her angelic face. My tone holds no malice, only the steely resolve of someone who understands the full weight of his actions. “You knew how I’d feel about that, and yet… I can’t hold it against you.”
Her choice to hide his confession feeds into a darker pleasure, knowing that part of her anticipated my reaction. That she, too, understands just how far I will go, how deeply I will bury anyone who dares interfere with what is ours.
However, while there is pride in her choice, there lies an equal irritation.
If she had told me, I could have dealt with this sooner. I could have made it abundantly clear that any affection, any admiration, directed toward her that isn’t mine, is not only unwelcome but intolerable.
Each word of Landon’s message solidifies my intent. The boy won’t stop. His sentiment is as predictable as it is pitiful, and his insistence has turned from nuisance to threat. If he believes he can worm his way back into her thoughts, to even occupy a fraction of her attention, he’s severely underestimated me.
