Page 35 of My Sweetest Obsession
ONE MONTH LATER
A cool fall breeze whips around me, and I tighten my jacket around myself against the blustery chill that somehow still seeps into my skin.
The weather seems fitting for my mood today.
Dark.
Overcast.
Almost as if the world itself somehow feels exactly what I do and has joined in solidarity with my mood.
The beach is almost completely deserted, the dropping temperatures and promise of an early snow keeping most people away.
Save for the lone figure standing on the sand near the shoreline, back to me.
But I don’t need to see her face to know who it is.
I’d know Ivy anywhere.
Anytime.
Anyplace.
My heart calls out for hers, even if she continues to hate me.
Her dark hair floats loose in the frigid wind, but she doesn’t seem to notice it, just stands there, staring out at the water that appears even darker today due to the heavy cloud cover overhead.
I glance at my car, tempted to go back to it rather than disturb her when I’m confident I’m the last person she wants to see—today of all days.
The weeks since I saw her last have done nothing to abate any of the guilt eating me alive, nor do I imagine it has any of her anger toward me for how I’ve ripped apart her life.
“I hate you so damn much for everything you caused…”
Every day, I hear those words and see that ultrasound picture. I watch those tears track down her cheeks and know it’s all because of me. Countless hours pass by as I imagine what their baby is going to look like—her soft eyes and Drew’s quick, bright smile.
And I’ll likely never see my niece or nephew.
At least, not in person.
Mom will show me pictures, try to make me feel connected, but I can’t expect Ivy to ever be okay with having me in her life again in any meaningful way.
Yet, I can’t walk away from her.
Not today.
Her beauty, her anguish, even her damn anger act like a fucking magnet, dragging me toward her, making my hands itch to tug her into my arms and hold her impossibly close until all her pain melts away.
It’s impossible.
But I still move toward her like the obsessed man I’ve always been when it comes to her.
My boots sink into the sand as I leave the boardwalk and make my way across the beach toward the only person on this planet who can destroy me with a single glance or word.
Each step ratchets up the tension in my body, locking my spine and making my shoulders and neck ache. Weeks of wanting to see her, of forcing myself to stay away and only drop by the house when I was sure she would be gone, have left me starving for her.
A real, painful ache, deep in my soul, that has only grown as the days pass slowly and the nights are agonizingly long and lonely. Filled with endless wondering and worrying about her and the baby…
And now she’s here.
