OBSESSED Series

Chapter 34

A tear escapes my eye and he howls brokenly, throwing his head down into my lap and wrapping his sinewy arms around my waist

“Don’t cry. Oh God, please don’t cry. I’m sorry.”

I play back his explanation in my mind. I play it back twice and I find…

I believe him.

There was a part of me that didn’t believe the receiver. There is no way to fake the kind of passion Gage and I brew together. But the hurt of that initial sting went too deep and I don’t know how to repair myself. I’ve been wounded too severely by the lies to stop the bleeding.

“It’s better this way,” I say, not recognizing the dead quality of my voice. “We’re nothing alike. I’m not the girl who dates the quarterback—”

“Yes, you fucking are! You’re marrying him.”

“No.”

“No?”

Bloodshot eyes lift to mine, swirling with insanity. My breath hitches. I’m right, aren’t I? He would be better off with someone who didn’t grow up alone. Someone who has experience with being in the public eye. Someone who would look more appropriate at his side—

He sits up, having gone very still. “Are you saying you’re not going to marry me?”

I can’t answer. There’s an invisible hand around my throat stopping me from taking it all back. Begging him to drive me home, despite the fact that I know it’s wrong. That letting him go is for the best, right? No way I can be what everyone expects the wife of a famous athlete to be.

“Right,” he says, the light going out of him. Like a candle being doused.

He stands up, turns, and walks straight into the ocean.

It takes me a moment to piece together what is happening. I watch dazed as he wades farther and farther into the water. First, his hips vanish beneath the inky black surface. And then his huge shoulders. Gone. Followed by his head. Several seconds pass and he doesn’t come up. What is he doing?

I don’t realize I’m crawling toward the water until my knees protest the fine sand and rocks digging into my injured skin, but I keep going. Then I push myself up onto shaky legs and start running, throwing myself into the ocean. He still hasn’t come up. It has been at least twenty seconds. The shockingly cold temperature of the water barely registers, because my insides are much colder. I’m a block of ice and chattering teeth cutting through the water, screaming his name, trying to keep my eyes on the spot where he disappeared so I can dive down.

It's a terrible time to realize I’ve been foolish. Utterly silly. I love this man and I know he loves me. These are truths beyond a shadow of a doubt. His explanation about what happened with his teammates is not only plausible, it’s likely. Gage is possessive of me. Jealous. Protective. He would lie to his teammates to divert their newfound interest in me. And it turns out, he was sort of right to do so. Didn’t that receiver hit on me within a minute of making my acquaintance after the game?

What have I done?

I let my hurt feelings own me. I lashed out, let my insecurities win…and now?

Could he die? Could he die because of me?

Sobs wrench up and out of my throat as I flail around, searching for his solid body in the water. I take huge breaths and dive as deep as possible, unable to see anything in the jet-black ocean—

My hand knocks into something smooth and I lurch forward, running my hands over shoulders, a neck, his face. “Gage,” I scream into the water, pulling him with all of my might toward the surface. When we reach the top, I slug down oxygen and so does Gage—thank God—but his eyes remain dead. Like if I let go of him, he’ll sink right back down to the bottom. “Gage, stop this,” I demand through shattering teeth. “I’m sorry I doubted you. I love you and I just want to go home. Please, I just want to go home.” He continues to stare off into the distance until I say, “I’m freezing cold. I’m so cold.”