Chapter 17

6.1K 93 10
                                    

Okay....just the last one before I will not be able to post the new chapters.😊

——————————————————————-

Melissa
"Oh god. He is an asshole."

I was standing at the stove, my hands were moving automatically as I prepared dinner. The rhythmic sound of the knife cutting vegetables gave me a sense of normalcy that I clung to despite the gnawing anxiety that had settled in my chest a few days ago. Roman had been away for a week, and though I tried to distract myself with the routine of daily life, my mind couldn't shake the fact that something was wrong.

It wasn't unusual for Roman to be gone for a few days; his job required it. But a week of silence, without a single message, was something else. Still, it was impossible to forget that his only job at the moment was to find the enemy. Before, he always called or sent a quick message to let me know he was okay. But this time, there was nothing. It wasn't surprising considering our last meeting, but it didn't make me calm down for a second. I glanced at the phone lying on the counter. I'd checked it countless times over the past few days, hoping to see his name on the screen, but he stubbornly remained silent. What a fucking asshole.

I pushed the thought aside and stirred the soup in the pot, concentrating on the simple motions of cooking. The evening was cool again for summer, and the warm smell of onions and garlic filled the kitchen, creating a sharp contrast to the chill that seemed to linger in my heart. The world outside continued to move forward—cars drove by, people walked down the street, oblivious to my silent confusion. But inside, I felt frozen in place, caught in a loop of uncertainty about my fate with Roman.

As I chopped the last of the carrots, I tried to push away the worst-case scenarios that plagued my thoughts. Roman was strong, capable, always one step ahead of danger. He had gotten into tough situations before and come out of them unscathed. But something about the silence was different this time. I didn't want to admit it to myself, but the seed of doubt was planted deep inside me, and it was growing with each passing day.

The kitchen door creaked and I tensed slightly, turning to see Natasha walk in. This woman had a perceptive nature that often surprised me at first. Natasha's eyes immediately found mine, full of quiet concern.

"My girl?" Natasha asked quietly, approaching the counter. "Everything okay?"

I forced a smile, though it didn't reach my eyes. "Of course, Natasha." I snorted, my voice carefully neutral. "Just making dinner. It should be ready soon."

But Natasha wasn't convinced. She leaned against the counter, folding her arms across her chest and studying my face with the same intense gaze she always used when something was wrong.

"That's right. You cook. You only do that when something's wrong, and you've cooked more this week than you've done in your entire life." Natasha narrowed her eyes, her voice gentle but piercing. "It's because of Roman, right?"

I turned back to the stove, stirring the soup again, even though it wasn't necessary. I felt Natasha's eyes on me, and a heavy sigh escaped my lips. I didn't want to worry her, especially since I had no real answers myself. But Natasha wasn't a child anymore, and hiding my worries from her was becoming impossible.

"I just haven't heard from him," I admitted, lowering my voice. "It's been a week and that's weird."

Natasha was silent for a moment, but I felt the weight of her thoughts. Then Natasha carefully reached out and placed her hand on mine.

"Hey, he'll be fine." Natasha said with more confidence than I could muster. "He's always fine. You know your husband."

I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of the woman's hand comfort me. I wanted to believe it, I really did, but the silence felt too heavy this time. Like there was something lurking just beyond my reach, something dark and unspoken.

Hateful obsession Where stories live. Discover now