Page 120 of Sweet Obsession
He leaned in, so close I could feel the whisper of his breath on my cheek. “Better?”
I nodded, barely able to breathe.
He paused. “Luna.”
I turned my head, our noses nearly brushing.
His eyes searched mine. Deep, stormy, furious, but also aching. Like he couldn’t figure out if I was the cure or the sickness.
Slowly, he leaned in.
And for a split second, I let him.
Because part of me wanted it.
Part of me ached for it. For something real. For something soft.
But just before his lips touched mine, I jerked away.
Water sloshed over the edge of the tub.
“No,” I whispered, breathless. “Don’t.”
He didn’t speak.
Didn’t move.
He stayed crouched beside the tub, fists clenched, jaw ticking. That same rage in him, but aimed inward this time. At himself.
I pulled my knees to my chest, arms wrapped around them like armor.
“Thank you,” I said, hoarse.
He stood without a word, wiped his hands on a towel, and left the room.
The door clicked shut behind him.
And I exhaled like I’d been holding my breath for hours.
I stayed in the water long after it turned cold.
Until my skin puckered and the air made me shiver.
But the worst part wasn’t the silence.
It was the voice inside me that wouldn’t shut up.
The one that whispered truths I didn’t want to hear.
I hate that part of me melts when he’s gentle.
I hate that part of me wants more.
I didn’t want another surprise.
Not from him.
So when his shadow stretched across my doorway, large and quiet, I stiffened instinctively. I kept my back to him, arms folded, face carefully blank. A wall I’d rebuilt too many times to count.
