Page 13 of Shadows of Obsession

"I'm not going to rush you," I murmured, keeping my voice low and soothing. "You take all the time you need, okay? We'll go at your pace."

He'd been free for months, untouched beyond basic care. Asking him to accept tack, to let me ride him again, was a big ask. Too big, maybe.

But Choco surprised me. He lowered his head, pressing his forehead against my chest in that familiar gesture he used when he wanted affection. An invitation.

Oh, you wonderful boy.

With practiced, gentle movements, I fitted the halter onto him. He stood perfectly still, his trust in me absolute despite all the time apart.

He remembers. He knows it's me.

I led him out of the field and secured him to a sturdy fence post, giving him space while I retrieved the grooming supplies from the side-by-side. Starting with a soft brush, I worked over his coat in long, steady strokes until it gleamed like polished copper in the sunlight.

His feet were next. I ran my hand down each leg, applying gentle pressure until he lifted his hoof. They looked good—well-trimmed, no cracks or chips. Connor's farrier was clearly doing excellent work.

"Looking good, handsome," I told him, moving to the next hoof. "Someone's been taking good care of you."

Once I was satisfied he was clean and sound, I grabbed the saddle pad. This was the real test. I laid it carefully across his back, watching for any sign of discomfort—pinned ears, tense muscles, shifting weight.

Nothing. He just stood there, head lowered, completely relaxed.

So far, so good.

I moved slowly with the saddle, lifting it with practiced ease and settling it gently in place. His ear flicked toward me, but he didn't move otherwise. I attached the girth on one side, then walked around to the other.

As I worked, I noticed Choco becoming more alert. His head came up, and his gaze fixed on the yearlings still playing in the field. His muscles tensed slightly, energy coiling beneath his skin.

He wants to run.

"I know, big guy," I murmured, tightening the girth another notch. "Soon. I promise."

I checked the stirrups, made sure everything was secure, then carefully removed his halter. He stood ground-tied, another testament to his training, as I offered him the bridle.

For a moment, he just looked at it. Then, with a soft huff of breath, he opened his mouth and accepted the bit.

Good boy. Such a good boy.

I secured the bridle, adjusted the noseband, and stood there for a moment with my hand on his neck. My heart was pounding, adrenaline, excitement, and a thin thread of fear all tangled together.

Can I still do this? It's been so long.

But looking at Choco, feeling the solid warmth of him and the trust radiating from every line of his body—

Yes. Yes, I can.

I gathered the reins and led him toward the side-by-side, intending to use it as a makeshift mounting block. My hands trembled slightly as I positioned myself, one foot in the stirrup.

Here goes nothing.

With a fluid motion born from years of practice, I swung myself into the saddle.

And the world shifted.

The familiar feel of the saddle beneath me, the gentle sway of Choco's body, the leather reins in my hands, it all came rushing back like a wave. Every muscle remembered. Every instinct clicked into place.

This. This is what I've been missing.

Choco stood perfectly still, waiting for my cue, his focus entirely on me. Asking permission. Waiting to see what I wanted.