Page 30 of My Sweetest Obsession
Not when I can tell, even from across the room, that she’s been crying, too.
Tears brim her eyes, and streaks trail down her cheeks. Her bottom lip quivers, and her hands twist in the blanket nervously. Something lingers in her gaze that I don’t think I’ve ever seen there before, even after everything we’ve shared.
Fear.
In all the time I’ve known her, even over the many years I spent obsessively watching her from across the pond via every single social media post she made or was tagged in, even when she sat a few feet from me and listened to me confess to causing Drew’s death, I’ve never seen this look on her face.
Ice-cold terror floods my veins, making my entire body tremble.
Dread settles in my chest.
I drop Mom’s hands and move over toward her cautiously, unsure what I’m supposed to do or say as panic tightens around my spine, making each step stiff and awkward.
Why is she here?
Why did Mom ask me to come?
We stare at each other in the silent room, the tension thickening the air the longer no one says anything.
I clear my throat, stopping halfway to her. “What-what’s wrong?”
Ivy exchanges a look with Mom behind me, and Mom pushes to her feet.
She stops beside me. “I’m going to let you two talk.” Her hand tightens around my arm. “I’ll be in the lobby.”
Before I can think to ask why she’s not staying, she slips out the door, closing it behind her and leaving me alone with the woman who still owns me—body and soul—even if she doesn’t want it.
And the fact that she’s watching me with that curious look of fear, trepidation, and almost relief twists a knife in my gut.
Fear clogs my throat before I can say anything else, before I can ask anything to try to figure out what the fuck is going on.
She gives me a tight smile, clearly uncomfortable with me being here, with whatever she’s about to tell me.
That’s why Mom left—so Ivy can break the news to me herself.
Which means it’s bad.
I slowly lower myself into the chair at the side of the exam bed and wait for her to say something, anything, as I hold my breath.
Finally, she releases a long sigh, continuing to twist her fingers in the blanket that covers her lap. “I’m okay, Cam. I told Nancy you’d freak out, that you’d probably think she was sick again if she didn’t explain why she was asking you to come.” Her lips tilt into an almost smile, but it’s forced. “And I’m sorry if you did…”
Oh, thank God…
The tiniest bit of tension releases from my shoulders, and I run a trembling hand through my hair, trying to process what’s happening. But I can’t get my head around any reason Ivy would be here with Mom, or what she could possibly need to tell me when we haven’t spoken in months. “It’s okay. I, um…now I’m just worried about you.”
Like I have been since she walked out my door with that almost-empty bottle and the smack that was mere minutes from going into my veins.
Her hands tighten on the blanket, knuckles whitening as if she’s having to try to ground herself physically in order to be this close to me. My mind immediately flashes back to how tightly she clung to me like that the night we spread Drew’s ashes. How desperately she needed me then.
Things have changed so much.
Now she’s nervous. Scared. Uneasy around me when she once craved my touch.
I fucked this up so badly…
She chews on her bottom lip, watching me for a moment before she releases it. “Really. I’m…okay, Cam, just…a little rattled.”
Rattled?
