Page 156 of Reckless Obsession

He disappears into the bathroom before I can answer, shutting the door behind him. I shake my head and move toward the nightstand for my phone.

His phone begins to ring silently beside it, the screen flashing against the dark wood. I glance down without thinking, and my eyes catch the name before I can stop them.

Dante.

A FaceTime call.

For a second, I just stare at the name. My entire demeanor changes before I can stop it. The morning’s easy rhythm—the banter, the faint warmth in my chest from hearing him wake up—goes still. Something tightens low beneath my ribs.

Dante.

The man Maksim used to hook up with. The man he’s been secretly seeing for two years now.

Maksim has never been a person who lingers. He burns bright, gets bored, walks away. Most people are lucky to get a month of his attention before he decides they have become predictable.

Dante got two years.

The call rings out.

Once.

Twice.

A third time.

I watch it until the screen goes dark.

I should leave it there.

I know that. There is no justification for touching his phone. We are exclusive. We have rules. Trust is meant to be one of them, even if we are both still learning what it looks like between us.

But jealousy is an ugly thing. It does not care about principles. It only cares that someone else’s name is lighting up beside the bed Maksim sleeps in with me.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I pick up the phone.

His messages with Dante are near the top.

I hesitate.

Then open them.

There isn’t much.

That should make me feel better.

It doesn’t.

Dante sends good-morning messages every few days. Nothing overt. Nothing I can point to and turn into an accusation. Just small, gentle check-ins that feel far too intimate for someone who is supposed to be in Maksim’s past.

Good morning. Hope you slept okay.

Have a good day today, Amore mio. Don’t start too much trouble.

I tried that café you mentioned. You were right about the pastries.

Sometimes Dante talks about his day, a difficult client, a flight delay, or something funny that happened at work. The messages aren’t demanding. They don’t pressure Maksim into responding.

They simply make room for him.