Page 66 of Obsessing Over His Favorite

It was the middle of the night. Lucas was in bed with her. He had been kissing her, their bodies wrapped in warmth, when his phone rang. He reached over to the bedside table, his thumb ready to swipe to hang up—but then his eyes fell on the caller ID. He paused. Then, without hesitation, he picked up the call, breaths still heavy, hovering over Emily.

On the other end was Amelia’s voice.

“Lucas… I’m scared. I heard something outside. I think someone’s trying to get in. Can you please come? Please, Lucas, come quickly.”

Lucas ended the call, pulled away from Emily, and slid out of bed. Her heart dropped.

She sat up, disbelief and disappointment written all over her face.

“Lucas, are you seriously going to leave right now? It’s the middle of the night.”

“Something’s wrong with Amelia. I have to go help,” he said quickly. “She’s living alone—you have to understand.”

“Can’t she call the cops? Or her neighbors? Why do you have to leave?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

But even before she finished speaking, he was already walking out the door.

That night, the pain in her chest had been unbearable. She’d cried—deep, silent sobs that echoed in the empty room. His behavior had cut her deeply.

Then another memory surfaced. It had been another late night. Lucas was in the bathroom, and his phone lit up with a message. The screen flashed a name she had grown used to seeing:Amelia.

Even in the middle of the night, if Amelia texted or called, Lucas always responded. Always answered.

It had started to feel like she was stuck in the middle—between him and Amelia. Caught in a relationship that didn’t truly belong to her.

That night, unable to take it anymore, Emily had picked up his phone. She went through the messages.

Then he came out and saw her holding it.

His face twisted with anger.

“Emily, how many times have I told you I don’t like it when you go through my phone?” he snapped.

“I wasn’t doing anything—I was just looking for something,” she’d said quickly, her voice small, her body frozen. She hadn’t meant to get caught. But she had. And she was scared.

He threw the towel to the floor, his glare sharp enough to cut.

“Emily, I’m a working man, and you’re acting crazy. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to say this. I have a business to run. Ihandle everything. My phone is my personal space. There are important and confidential things on my phone. You can’t touch it. You should understand that.”

Her eyes had filled with tears, her chest tightening so hard it felt like her ribs might snap. She had begged him that night, sobbing.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—I was just—please, forgive me.”

But he’d only barked, “You’ve lost your mind,” before yanking the phone out of her hands and storming out of the room.

The memory cracked like glass in her head as she snapped back to the present.

Lucas was in front of her now, cradling her face between his hands. His eyes searched hers.

But her instincts fired.

She pushed his hands away immediately, her brows furrowed tight, her breath caught in her throat. The pain from back then came flooding into her chest all over again. As if it had just happened.

She could barely breathe.

And then, her voice came out quiet, but sharp. “My phone is my personal space. There are so many important and confidential things on my phone. You can’t touch it. You should understand that.”

She repeated the very words he’d once thrown at her.