Page 142 of Quiet Obsession
“I was scared, Hyde,” she admits quietly. “I was seven and the only thing I knew was that my big brother stopped bringing me sweets and sitting next to my bed.”
“Jesus,” Dash whispers.
Millie either doesn’t hear that or chooses not to react, her attention locked on Hyde the whole time. He drags a hand through his hair, eyes glassy now, jaw trembling.
“When I got better,” she continues, “I thought I’d get my brother back. Itriedto make you come back. I followed you everywhere, talked to you through your bedroom door, baked you cookies.”
She sniffles, glancing down at the pills. “You’re the one who chose literally anyone else over me. And when last year I needed you most,” she whispers. “You didn’t answer.”
My stomach twists at the memory of that night and the words rip out of me before I can stop them.
“Don’t blame him for my mistake.”
She flinches at my voice, her breath catching.
Hyde sits up, pointing a finger at me. “It wasn’t yourmistake. You didn’t do shit, Elias. You didn’t even know she existed—”
“That doesn’t change what happened,” I insist, my attention not veering from Millie, my hands still grasping the armrests. “He didn’t answer because of me. You almost fuckingdiedbecause ofme.”
Her eyes finally meet mine, but she doesn’t look dumbstruck. Not disappointed. Not even sad. She looks furious.
“Did you take his phone away?” she demands. “Did you threaten him? Hold him down so he couldn’t answer?”
She catches me so off guard that I falter. We’ve had this conversation inside my head a million times and it never ended this way. She was always crying, shoving me away, slapping my face, telling me not to ever come near her again.
“I didn’t answer because I didn’t want to,” Hyde says, exhaling a shaky breath.
Millie doesn’t flinch or recoil. It’s like she knew all along, and now he’s admitted it, she’s got closure. Her chin stops trembling, tears stop falling, and her shoulders relax as she exhales a steady breath.
“Okay,” she says. “Next time you don’t want me intruding on your life maybe don’t drag me into it.”
“Millie—”
“Just...” She pauses, pinching her lips, that gorgeous face so resigned it makes me feel sick. “Just stay away from me.”
She turns, and three seconds later, it’s just the four of us. Noah staring after her, Dash running a hand down his face, and me... watching my best friend’s eyes locked on the door.
It takes ten seconds before he leaves.
“Fuck...” Dash huffs, cracking open a bottle of beer. “And I thought I had issues.”
43
Millie
I spend the rest of the weekend locked in my room.
Every time images of Creed or Hyde flood my mind, I open my sketchbook. Initially, my throat clogged up, but once I’d torn out Creed’s tattoo design and crumpled it in my fist, I found peace with a pencil between my fingers, and headphones covering my ears so Abby couldn’t ask questions.
The worried looks she’s been giving me are enough. She must’ve heard what happened in the common room. Probably pieced together that Creed left those bruises on my body and that it’s all fucking over now.
I skip meals on Sunday, emptying my drawer of protein bars instead, but Abby brings me a sandwich from the cafeteria in the evening. It’s still sitting on my bedside table when I drag myself out of bed at six the next morning.
I haven’t slept much, listening to her soft breaths and occasional snores while I tossed and turned. I’ve been talking myself out of heading for the gym since five o’clock struck,stay away from my friends,stopping me every time I went to yank off the comforter.
My stomach’s tight by the time I take a shower, pull on the largest sweater I own, and leave the room, on my way to the cafeteria, “Fall Up” by VOILÁ filling my ears.
It’s depressing as hell in my current state. The lyrics tell a story of a man so obsessed, so enthralled he’d do literally anything to get the girl, but even though it reminds me Creed doesn’t want me like that, Gus’s vocals make me feel at ease.
