Page 159 of His Obsession


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Colt laughs even harder. “I’d forgotten about that.”

Each laugh is a dagger.

Each memory is another cut.

“I need some air,” I say abruptly, standing. My throat tightens, and I head straight for the kitchen.

“Dee?” Colt calls, concern in his voice.

I grip the doorframe, grounding myself.

You can’t compete with history.

Colt follows quickly. “It’s too much, isn’t it?” He cradles my face in his hands, and I hate how much I melt into his touch. I want to scream. Throw something. Instead, a single tear slides down my cheek. Because that’s what I always do.

“Talk to me.”

“Have a paternity test,” I blurt, breath catching.

His brows draw in. “What?”

“How do you know he’s even yours? Just…please. Do a test.”

He flinches at the desperation in my voice. But I can’t take it back.

“You only have to look at him, Dee,” he says, stroking my cheek. “He’s got my eyes. My mouth. I don’t need a test. I trust Mace.”

I shake my head, not because I disagree, but because I do agree, and that’s what terrifies me.

“You don’t want him to be mine, do you?” His voice is gentle. There’s no accusation, just understanding.

I break, my tears falling harder now, because he’s right.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m trying.”

“I know,” he says, holding me tighter. “And I know this hurts. But I do trust Macy. She wouldn’t lie about something like this.”

“I don’t know her,” I say, voice small. “But I trust you.”

He kisses the top of my head. “I’m going to tell her about the kidney testing, then I’ll ask her to head off. I hate what this is doing to you.”

“No,” I say. “You were enjoying yourself. You should stay. Spend time with him. Get to know your son.”

Colt looks at me, torn.

“Go,” I say again, gently. “I’ll take a walk. Clear my head.”

“I don’t want to leave you alone like this.”

“You’re not,” I reply. “I just… need a minute.”

“Colt? Everything okay?” Macy calls from the hallway, and Caleb appears beside her.

Colt glances at them, then back to me.

“Go,” I whisper. “I’ll be fine.”

He studies me for a long beat, then squeezes my hand. “I love you,” he murmurs and leans in for a kiss.