Page 59 of Burning Obsession

I close my eyes, my headache becoming so intense the lights are starting to bother me. Not to mention this idiot thinking it’s some kind of shock that I’m not going.

“Did you not hear me?” I can feel my irritation escalating. “Do you need me to repeat it? Speak slower? Or is it that you’re getting hard of hearing in your old age?”

“Fuck off, man. Again, I’m going to let that slide.” I hear him sigh through the phone. “I just think it’s stupid. That you’re being a little irrational.”

Did he just say what I think he did? Oh, hell no. He’s woken the asshole in me now.

“Stupid? Irrational?” My voice raises with each word that I speak until I’m practically screaming at him. “It’s irrational that I don’t want to be with the person who stalked me for months. Found out all the details he could about me, then pretended to meet me one day and make me fall in love with him.”

“Yeah. That’s exactly it. And he didn’t make you fall in love with him. You did that all on your own. You know who’s being ridiculous? You. Jake, I’m just asking you to look at everything with a clear head.”

“How could I not look at it any clearer? He fucking lied to me!” I shout.

“Yeah, but it’s not like it was a lie meant to hurt you. Not to mention you didn’t even give him a chance to explain. You shut him out and told him you never wanted to see him again.”

My eyes go wide in shock. I have to be in some kind of alternate universe. Or this is a damn dream. I pinch my arm and fuck it hurts. Okay, not a dream. Alternate universe it is. I need to find the worm hole to send me back to the right place, because it’s obvious everyone here is fucking delusional.

“I thought you were my friend, but it seems clear that you’re on the Victor the liar bandwagon.”

“I am your friend.”

“Seems like you’re on his side.”

“No. I’m on the side of sanity, Jake.”

I roll my eyes and seriously consider hanging up and blocking his ass, too.

“Then clearly you have a warped sense of it.”

“It means you’re looking at this with a broken heart. Did he buy you gifts for months? Yes. You rescued him, and he had a bad case of savior worship.” I scoff, but Stellan ignores me and keeps talking. “It’s not like he showed up at your house, stole your dirty underwear, or chained you to his bed and slowly ate the flesh from your body. He didn’t even make a skin suit out of you. He sent you some gifts. Big fucking deal.”

“Exactly. That’s what I’m saying. It is a big damn deal.”

“Yes, Jake, I know it is to you. But the two of you clearly like each other. You were happy. What he did was harmless. Did you ever think that once you told him about how you felt about the person leaving gifts, and he saw how much it upset you, that he was too scared to admit it was him?”

I don't answer because what if he’s right.

“You were the happiest I’ve seen you in a long time. Can you deny that? If you can, then I’ll shut up. But I think you really need to be honest when you answer it.”

My jaw tightens. I can’t deny it. Because Stellan’s right. And I fucking hate that he is. I haven’t been as happy as I was with Victor in a long time.

Even after the lies, the deceit, I still love him. That’s the part I don’t want to admit. Because being angry is easier. Being hurt is easier. Hating him would be so much fucking easier than forgiving him.

I hate that he watched me struggle with something he could have explained with a few simple words. He even knew that it bothered me. And maybe, just maybe, that’s why he didn’t tell me.

Stellan clears his throat. “I’m waiting.”

“Fine! I still love him.”

“Then go, let him explain. Let him tell you everything, and truly listen to him. Then you decide how you feel.” I pick at the tiny hole at the bottom of my shirt as I let what he’s saying sink in. “You might get closure on this relationship. Or you might realize you can forgive him and move forward together.”

I don't say anything. I can’t. Why is this so hard? How can my feelings be so torn? I shouldn’t even be thinking of him after what he did. But, he still consumes my thoughts.

“You’ll spend the rest of your life wondering what could have happened if you’d just gotten on that plane.”

I gnaw on my lip. “I don’t want regrets but I don’t know if I can do it.”

“But remind me if I’m wrong,” he continues, “you love reading about this same exact thing happening in those smutty books of yours.”