Page 55 of The Obsession
“You want me to read it to you?”
She nods as she points to the rocking chair in the corner.
I step further into the room and make my way towards the chair, taking a seat. As soon as I do, I’m surprised when Peach doesn’t hesitate to climb onto my lap.
I open the little book and begin to read. As soon as I start speaking, she snuggles closer into me, and my heart melts. She doesn’t even know me, but she’s so trusting, and that’s a testament to her uncle.
The story is about a brave knight who rescues a lonely little princess from a dark, empty castle and carries her to a cosy home full of warmth, toys, and safety.
I pause for a moment, looking down at Peach’s tiny face, and I can’t help but think how much this story mirrors her reality. Dominic didn’t have to take her in and make her feel loved when the world had turned its back on her, yet he did. The knight in the story is just make-believe, but Dominic isn’t … he’s real.
Chapter 19
Dominic
By the time I unload the car, put all the perishable groceries away, and go in search of my niece and Emily, I find them still in Peach’s room. Emily sits in the oversized white rocking chair, Peach curled up on her lap, sound asleep, her tiny chest rising and falling with each gentle breath.
The book is still open, and I don’t even have to look down to know which one it is—Lil’ Peach’s favourite story. I’ve read that fucking thing so many times I know it word for word.
Emily rocks slowly, reading softly even though her audience has drifted off. I can’t help but watch them, momentarily struck by the quiet tenderness of seeing them together like this. The way Emily holds her, how Peach trusts her so completely already, and the warmth that fills the room even in my absence.
This is what my little girl needs, what she’s been missing. A mother figure in her life. But I’d never ask that of Emily. We don’t even know how long she’s going to stick around, and the thought of relying on her for anything more than this fleeting tenderness feels impossible.
Ithought bringing Emily to my home was for the best, but now I’m not so sure. She fits so perfectly, like she was always meant to be here. This is only temporary for her, and I don’t want to do anything that’s going to crush Lil’ Peach’s heart, not again. She was devastated when Mrs B went into full-time care.
Even though we still visit her often, it’s not the same. Our neighbour was only a part-time carer, but Emily will be living with us. Why am I only just realising now how complicated this could get?
“She’s asleep,” I murmur, sounding more annoyed than I should.
The truth is, I like seeing them both together; it’s the fallout that could come from it that worries me.
“I know,” she whispers, gently closing the book. “I wasn’t sure what to do with her.”
“I’ll put her down for her nap.”
I take a tentative step towards them. I’m not sure how I’m going to lift Peach without touching Emily.
She extends her hand to me, the one holding the book. “Do you want her in the cot? I can put her in there.”
“Yeah,” I grunt as I take the book, watching as she cradles Peach in her arms and uses the strength in her legs to push herself to her feet.
She carries her towards the cot like she’s holding a priceless treasure. Leaning over the rail, she gently places my niece down on the mattress before glancing at me over her shoulder.
“Should I take her shoes off?”
I nod once and turn to leave because I’ve seen enough. My head is all over the place, and she’s only been inside my home for a matter of minutes.
Heading straight for the kitchen, I set about unpacking the rest of the groceries. There are things in here I’ve neverbought before, and I’m not entirely sure where I should put them.
I’m closing drawers and cupboards with a little more force than usual, and the last thing I want to do is wake Lil’ Peach, but there’s so much chaos running rampant inside me, I need to release some of it before I self-combust.
Grabbing the carton of eggs, I spin, stalking towards the fridge, and that’s when I notice Emily standing at the threshold of the kitchen watching me. Those fucking sky-blue eyes of hers look so lost that it has me pausing mid-stride.
Something in my chest gives out, an abrupt guilty twist, because no matter how hard I try to stay angry, seeing her like that always hollows me out. I’ve been so fixated on what I’m feeling that I forgot to consider everything she’s carrying.
She has walked away from the man she once loved, and maybe still does. Who knows. I fucking hope that’s not the case, but if it is, she can’t exactly go back to him. She just doesn’t know that yet.
This woman abandoned her home, leaving every part of her old life behind, and stepped into a future that must feel a lot like she’s free-falling.
