Page 118 of Shadows of Obsession

And they're going to pay for it. Both of them.

"I feel like I can finally move on," I said, the words feeling true as I spoke them. "Not forget—I'll never forget Nikki. But move forward. Stop being stuck in that moment."

I leaned in closer, brushing my lips softly against hers, pouring everything I felt into the gentle contact. "I want to move on," I whispered against her mouth like a sacred vow. "With you."

Anna melted into the kiss, and I felt the tension drain from her body. She breathed in deeply, and I knew she was taking in my scent the same way I'd breathed in hers, finding comfort in the familiar.

She rested her forehead against mine, a sigh of relief and contentment escaping her lips, loosening something tight in my chest.

We didn't need words. The connection between us, the unspoken understanding and commitment, said everything that needed to be said.

As we pulled apart, I saw the small smile tug at her lips despite everything, and it felt like a victory. Proof that those who had hurt her hadn't broken her spirit.

We finished our meal in comfortable silence, the simple act of sharing food and space healing something in both of us. I watched her eat slowly, making sure she finished most of the soup, relieved when color returned to her cheeks.

Afterwards, we made our way to the den, instinctively seeking the comfort and closeness of one another. On the plush sofa, I pulled her against my side, careful of her injuries but needing her close.

Anna tucked herself against me, her head finding that perfect spot on my chest where she fit like she was made to be there. I wrapped an arm around her shoulders, my other hand finding hers and lacing ourfingers together.

I grabbed the remote and pulled up Netflix, scrolling until I found something mindless and familiar, one of those movies we'd both seen a dozen times and could quote by heart.

As the opening credits rolled, Anna relaxed against me, her breathing even. The flickering images on the screen, the familiar dialogue and music, created a cocoon of normalcy.

I realized this was what healing looked like. Not grand gestures or dramatic moments. Just this. Just being together.

I stroked her arm in a soothing rhythm, pressing a kiss to the top of her head every so often, needing the contact, needing to remind myself she was safe.

The afternoon sun shifted across the room as one movie bled into another. At some point, Anna's breathing deepened, and I realized she'd fallen asleep against me.

I didn't move. Didn't want to risk waking her when she so desperately needed rest.

Instead, I just held her, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest, the haunted tension finally gone from her face.

Outside, the ranch hummed with life—Denny and the guys taking care of everything, just as they promised. Horses nickering, barn doors opening and closing, the distant rumble of the tractor.

Life went on. The world kept turning.

CHAPTER 32

Anna

Iwoke to sunlight streaming through the curtains and the warm weight of Jaxon's arm draped across my waist. For a blissful moment, I forgot everything. Just existed in the cocoon of warmth and safety his presence provided.

Then I shifted slightly, and pain lanced through my face where the bruising had settled deep into the tissue. My wrists ached where the rope burns were healing beneath the long sleeves I'd worn to bed. Reality came crashing back.

But this morning felt different somehow. Lighter, maybe. Like we'd turned some invisible corner in the darkness and could finally see a sliver of light ahead.

Jaxon's breathing changed behind me, and I felt him press a soft kiss to my shoulder.

"Morning," he murmured, his voice still rough with sleep in a way that sent pleasant shivers down my spine, despite everything.

"Morning," I whispered back, turning carefully in his arms to face him.

His eyes were clearer today, the haunted look from yesterday fading slightly. He reached up and traced his fingers gently along my uninjured cheek, his touch feather-light and reverent.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

I considered the question, taking stock of myself physically and emotionally.