Page 24 of Meet Me In The Dark (Skeptically In Love #3)

Julian

“Obsession,” Rae says, leaning back in her chair. Her eyes narrow as she assesses me in that way of hers. “That’s a strong word, Julian.”

“Yeah, well, it’s an accurate one,” I mutter, drumming my fingers on my knee.

“You’ve been coming to me for seven years. Not once have you used that word to describe anything… or anyone.”

“Maybe you’re slipping.”

Her lips twitch. “You’ve got jokes today. Good. Humor often masks vulnerability.”

“Thanks for the psychoanalysis, Freud. Can we move on?”

“Absolutely not.” She crosses her legs and settles in. I guess my dysfunction makes for good entertainment. “Let’s circle back. Tell me again why you think you’re obsessed with…” She glances down at her notes. “Celeste Morgan.”

My jaw tightens at just the sound of her name, and I shift uncomfortably on the couch.

I hate this fucking couch.

“Because she’s driving me insane. She’s all I think about. Work, sleep, exercise. It doesn’t matter. She’s there.”

“Intrusive thoughts?” Rae scribbles something down, probably ‘client spiraling over woman, hilarious’.

“More like invasive. She’s taken permanent residence in my head.”

“Is it possible you’re confusing obsession with simple attraction?”

“Oh, believe me, I’ve done attraction plenty of times. It’s tidy. It’s easy. You know what attraction doesn’t make you do? It doesn’t make you get up at the ass-crack of dawn to chase a woman around a neighborhood like a deranged stalker.”

Rae’s eyebrows nearly hit her hairline. “Come again?”

“Running,” I clarify, shifting again. Jesus. “Running, Rae. I’ve started running.”

“With Celeste?”

“Behind Celeste. At a respectful yet somehow still creepy distance.”

Her lips finally break into a smile she can’t contain. “Well, that’s certainly new behavior.”

I scrub a hand over my face. “And that’s not even the worst part.”

“Oh?” Her pen hovers over the page.

“I’ve been trying to make... small talk,” I say, fucking horrified with myself. “I’m becoming desperate for anything she’s willing to give me. Who does that?”

“A man who wants to know her,” Rae suggests, scribbling away.

“Exactly. You see the problem. I don’t want to know her.”

“But you do.”

I groan into my palms. “Deeply. Unfortunately. She’s like an itch under my skin I can’t reach.”

“Interesting metaphor.”

I lift my head, glaring at her. “You’re enjoying this.”

She sets her notebook down and leans forward. “Look, Julian, maybe this isn’t such a bad thing. After everything you’ve been through, after—”

I wave her off. “Don’t psychoanalyze me. I pay you, remember?”

“Oh, I’m aware.” Her eyes sparkle with humor. “Your discomfort has funded my vacations for years.”

I glare harder. “Very professional.”

“What I mean is, maybe this obsession—as you so put it—is something else entirely.”

“And what’s that?”

“Growth.”

“Fuck growth. Growth is uncomfortable.”

“Precisely,” she says. “That’s why most people avoid it.”

“I’m not most people.”

“No, you’re certainly not.” She smirks and picks up her pen again. “How’s your mother, by the way?”

I tense, feeling the familiar tightening in my chest .

“Which one?”

“The one you never like to discuss.”

“My birth mother is exactly where she’s been the last two years,” I say curtly. “In a private room at Saint Mary’s. Excellent care. Top-tier specialists. Bills paid.”

“Still haven’t visited?”

I shake my head. “I’m respecting her wishes.”

“When was the last time you spoke to her?”

“Five years ago.”

There have been moments before that when the updates from her doctors weren’t enough, and I needed to see for myself that she was still breathing.

She’s been fighting cancer for eight years, but she looked like she’d already lost the day I walked into that sterile hospital room.

Her family couldn’t care for her anymore, and even though she hardly looked at me, barely muttered a hello, I couldn’t stomach the idea of her being dumped in some understaffed facility to be forgotten about.

So, yeah, I stepped in. Arranged the transfer, wrote the checks, and put her somewhere with soft sheets and private nurses.

Even then, she still wouldn’t look at me. I was nothing but an intrusion.

The part that pisses me off the most is that I still feel anything at all.

It’s a pathetic kind of loyalty—loyalty to someone who never once showed up for me—and I hate myself for it.

My jaw ticks, betraying irritation despite my effort. “She made it clear more than once that she wants nothing to do with me. I’m a dark reminder. Her words, not mine. She built a new life, had two more kids, and got herself the family she wanted. I’m respecting her choice.”

Rae’s thoughtful gaze lingers on me. “Respecting her choice by paying for her care without acknowledgment?”

“It’s just money, Rae. I can’t change her mind.”

She nods slowly. “Does Celeste know about any of this?”

“Fuck, no,” I snap. “And she won’t.”

“Maybe she should.”

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“Maybe because she’s someone who makes you uncomfortable, and your past is uncomfortable territory. Maybe you need someone to challenge the way you’ve boxed yourself in.”

“My past isn’t relevant to my obsession with Celeste.”

“Isn’t it? You have abandonment issues, Julian. Control issues. Obsession seems perfectly fitting.”

“Yes, thank you for the neat little psychological triangle,” I interrupt. “I’m aware of it.”

“Awareness is the first step.”

“And denial is the second, right?” I sit up again, running a hand roughly through my hair. “Can we wrap this up? My pride can only handle so much abuse in one session.”

She laughs softly, eyes bright. “Sure, Julian, but can I offer you some advice first?”

Wary, I reply, “I suppose that’s your job.”

“Let yourself enjoy this.”

“Enjoy what? The insanity?”

She shakes her head. “Enjoy the challenge of figuring someone out who clearly doesn’t want to be figured out. Obsession? Attraction? Call it whatever you like. But from everything you’ve said, you find Celeste fascinating.”

“Fascinating.” I bark a humorless laugh. “That’s one word for her.”

“She’s making you uncomfortable, pushing your boundaries. That’s exactly the kind of thing someone like you needs.”

“Someone like me?”

“A man who’s gotten too comfortable controlling every outcome. Celeste seems to defy control, and that terrifies you.”

I stare at her silently for a beat, then two, before standing. “And that’s my cue to leave.”

“Same time next week?”

“Fuck it,” I mutter. “Why not?”

Outside her office, I pull out my phone, hoping for a distraction. Instead, I see an unread email from Celeste. It’s a short, polite note about the construction timeline.

I read it four times.

Yeah.

I’m definitely fucking obsessed.