Page 134 of Obsession
Unable to look her in the eye, I stare at her long fingers and neatly trimmed nails, which are covered in a sheen of clear nail polish. “I fell in love with a bad man.”
“Oh, honey,” she whispers, her voice thick with sympathy. “Tell me what’s been going on.”
And so, I do. I tell her everything, allowing the truth about my feelings for Robbie to pour from my lips—everything except for what happened to my father. Some secrets are better off left buried.
“Sweetheart,” she says when I finally fall silent. “You did the right thing by contacting Chapman. You know that, right? I’m so proud of you for putting your own feelings and attachments aside to help that poor girl. It couldn’t have been easy.”
“I was angry.”
“I know…” She sighs, watching me. “Angry or not, you still did the right thing.”
“But now they’ll execute him.”
“He would get caught again sooner or later. It was only a matter of time. This isn’t your fault. Do you hear me?” She leans in, watching me intently. “It’s not your fault. If anything, you have saved some other young woman from suffering a similar fate to Beatrix.”
Tracing the handle of my cup, I swallow down the clogged sensation in my throat. Muffled voices seep in from outside the window, their words indistinguishable. Countless reporters wait for me to show my face.
“I feel so stupid.” My voice shakes, and Charlotte squeezes my free hand in silent support.
“It’s okay,” she reassures me. “I don’t judge you. The heart is fickle and doesn’t listen to reason.”
I nod silently, then wipe away a stray tear with my sleeve. “I don’t know what I thought. Did I believe he would change? That his time in prison would stop his killing urges? Or worse, did I somehow think love would be enough?” I cringe at my own ridiculous thoughts.
Of course, love isn’t enough to tame a monster.
“You had hope,” Charlotte says, rising from her chair and reaching for our cups.
Water pours into the sink as she rinses them clean, her shoulders shifting. She dries her hands on a towel, turns around, and leans back against the counter. “Don’t ever begrudgeyourself hope.” Pushing off, she walks up to me. “Even now, it’s okay to have hope.”
I blink back tears when she sits down on her haunches, watching me in that motherly way of hers.
She palms my shoulder. “Despite the evil in him, he’s still capable of loving you, Savannah. Maybe his demons won this time, and maybe the grain of goodness inside him, the grainyouhelped water, isn’t strong enough in the light of all that darkness.” She wipes away my tears with her thumb, a soft smile on her lips. “You’re going to be okay. I know you will.”
55
SAVANNAH
When I walk into the bar, weaving through throngs of people, all eyes turn toward me. My work colleagues are seated at a table toward the back, drinks in hand.
Jeanine spots me first and shoots to her feet. “You came.”
Unwinding my mustard scarf, I walk up to them, offering a tentative smile to Mark, Claire, James, and Emma, who smile back. Mark raises his beer in greeting.
I wasn’t going to come tonight, but my mind was racing. I had to get out.
My eyes catch on Elliot beside James, and my eyebrows raise in question, but before I can make a comment, Jeanine takes my hand and drags me back to the bar. Judging by the glassy sheen in her eyes, her empty glass of wine back at the table wasn’t her first.
She gestures for the bartender, then smiles at me. “I’ll be honest; I didn’t think you’d show.”
“Neither did I,” I reply.
Jeanine orders us drinks while I scan the bar. When she hands me a glass of wine, I gratefully gulp it down.
Her eyes widen, her wine still untouched. “Thirsty?”
My head shakes. “Anxious.”
She watches me swig half the glass in one go before she seems to shake herself off, sipping her wine.
