Page 10 of Shadows of Obsession

Connor's expression softened, and I braced myself for bad news.Please don't tell me something happened to him.

"All of these horses are rideable," Connor explained, a hint of excitement creeping into his tone. "We use them here on the ranch. The ranch hands take them out for work or leisure rides when they need to." He paused, a fond smile touching his lips. "But Choco… he was different. I couldn't even ride him."

My breath caught. "Was?"

"Is," Connor corrected quickly, and relief flooded through me so fast it left me dizzy. "He's fine, Anna. More than fine, actually. He's in the back fields with the yearlings right now, running wild and living his best life."

He's okay. Choco's okay. The truth of it made my shoulders slump in profound gratitude.

"I never would've left him behind," Connor added, his gaze steady on mine. "I know what he means to you."

Gratitude surged through me, and I blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay. "Thank you," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Can I… can I see him?"

Connor's smile widened into a full grin. "I was hoping you'd ask. Come on."

Laughter bubbled up from somewhere deep in my chest as we made our way back toward the old barn, Chester bounding alongside us with renewed enthusiasm. The sound felt strange. Rusty, like I'd forgotten how to laugh.

We climbed into one of the utility vehicles parked by the barn—a side-by-side with mud-splattered sides and worn seats that had clearly seen plenty of use. Connor drove us down a winding dirt trail, the trees parting to reveal an expansive field that seemed to stretch on forever.

My breath caught.

The sight before me was breathtaking. Yearling horses dotted the pasture. Some grazing peacefully, others nipping and playing. They'd formed little communities, distinct clusters spread across the field. But one horse stood apart, grazing near the far fence line.

I leaned forward, my hands gripping the edge of the side-by-side as I strained to see. The horse lifted his head, and even from this distance, I'd recognize that gleaming chestnut coat anywhere. Two back white socks. That proud, alert stance.

Choco.

"Stop," I said, my voice urgent. "Connor, stop."

He pulled to a halt, and I was out before he'd even fully engaged the brake. My feet hit the grass, but I didn't move closer, just stood there, drinking in the sight of him.

He looked… happy. His coat gleamed, muscles rippling under his skin as he moved. He'd filled out, strong and sure. Whatever Connor had been doing for him, it was working.

Unable to contain myself, I clicked my tongue, the same sound I'd used to call him for years.

His head snapped up instantly, ears pricked forward so hard they nearly touched. Our eyes locked across the distance.

There you are. There's my boy.

For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. Then Choco exploded into motion, bucking his back legs every few strides, galloping toward me with the rest of the herd streaming behind him like he was their leader. His hooves thundered against the earth, kicking up clods of dirt and grass, and my heart soared.

He remembered me. After all this time—after everything—he remembered.

Choco slowed as he approached, transitioning from gallop to canter to trot, finally stopping a few feet away. His sides heaved, nostrils flaring as he caught his breath. He stretched his neck toward me, nostrils fluttering as he took in my scent.

"Hey, handsome," I whispered, extending my hand slowly. "Did you miss me?"

He hesitated, just for a moment, as if unsure this was real. Then he stepped forward and pressed his head firmly against my hand, blowing out a long breath that ruffled my hair.

The tears came then, hot and fast, streaming down my cheeks as I wrapped my arms around his neck. His familiar scent—hay, horse, sunshine—enveloped me, and something that had been wound tight inside me for months finally loosened.

"I'm so sorry," I murmured into his mane, my fingers tangling in the coarse hair. "I'm so sorry I left you. I didn't want to. I swear I didn't want to."

Choco just stood there, solid and warm and real, letting me cry into his neck while the other horses milled around curiously.

With Choco, I was home.

I don't know how long we stood like that—minutes, maybe hours. Time felt suspended, unimportant. Eventually, I became aware of Connor standing a respectful distance away, giving us space but staying close in case I needed him.