Page 63 of Obsession (Dark Revenge)
“That’s not an answer.”
“It is.”
“No, it isn’t. Desiring something and being compelled by duty to have it are fundamentally distinct. One represents a longing, a wish for children. The other, an obligation. So, Jared, is it a duty for you?” I questioned, curious about the dynamics of his impending marriage. Given the limited questions I could ask, I hoped this was one he might answer.
“With Astrid, it’s primarily a duty,” he admitted. “Business stays within the family.”
I probed further, “And what line of business is that?”
He arched an eyebrow, cautioning me not to delve into such inquiries. Sighing, I redirected my question. “So, hypothetically speaking, if you weren’t marrying Astrid, would you genuinely desire to have children?”
I wondered why this topic mattered so much to me. After all, once our last week together ended, we would part ways, andwhether Jared had a family with Astrid or elsewhere shouldn’t concern me. They would lead lives far removed from mine.
“Well?” I persisted when he didn’t respond.
“Why are you even asking? We’re not creating a family together,” he retorted, his words surprising me. While I knew he didn’t imply that he wanted to start a family with me, the way he phrased it caught me off guard, prompting me to pull away slightly.
“N-No, I understand that,” I stammered. “I’m just curious.”
“Why?” he inquired, clearly perplexed.
“Because, after everything you have experienced, would having a family bring you happiness?”
“Happiness?” he echoed, the word appearing foreign to him.
“Yes, happiness,” I reiterated. “In today’s world, people have children not solely for survival, but for the joy and fulfillment they bring. You can choose to have children or not, depending on your desires. So, would having a family make you happy?”
“Why does it matter?” he replied, evading my direct answer.
“I know you have gone through so much.”
“Yes, because of you,” he pointed out sharply.
“And because of your father,” I added.
He visibly tensed at the mention of his abusive father, and I still didn't fully grasp the extent of the trauma that haunted Jared's childhood. He remained secretive about it, disclosing only small fragments. Nevertheless, his reaction to my inquiries intensified my curiosity.
“Why do you look like that?”
“Like what?” he snapped.
“There’s a haunted expression in your eyes. The first time we discussed it, it seemed like your motivation was solely to hurt me, to make me acknowledge the torment you endured both inside and outside your home, and because you couldn’t hide your scars while we were intimate. But when I brought it upagain recently, you nearly fled, and now you wear that haunted look.”
“I don’t have a look,” he insisted, his tone defensive.
“You do,” I persisted.
“Let it go, Alison,” he snarled, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of our conversation.
“Fine, but then answer my question!”
“What question?” he grumbled.
“Do you want kids, yes or no!”
“What will it change if I answer it?” he deflected.
“Because you’re obligated to have one with Astrid,” I pointed out, steering away from the deeper, more personal reasons behind my question, something I couldn’t even bring myself to contemplate.
