Page 92 of Sinful Obsession
“Thank you, Charlotte,” he said, his voice warm as he raised his glass of water. “This is incredible.”
I nodded, a flush creeping up my neck. “Just dinner.”
Asher, his mouth half-full, piped up with a barrage of questions, his curiosity unstoppable. “Cassian, where’d you find Mommy? Was it, like, a magical place?”
Cassian chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Not magical, but close. I met her in a city full of lights and noise, and she was the brightest thing there.”
“Did you fall in love right away?” Aria chirped, her fork waving dangerously.
I shot her a look. “Aria, eat your food.”
Cassian grinned, unfazed. “I don’t mind the questions. Let’s just say your mom made it hard not to notice her. She’s pretty special.”
Asher tilted his head, undeterred. “You’re not gonna leave Mommy, right? You’ll stay our dad forever?”
The word “dad” hit like a punch, and I froze, my fork hovering over my plate. “Asher,” I said sharply, “he’s my husband, not—”
“It’s okay,” Cassian cut in, his voice gentle but firm, his eyes meeting mine with a quiet understanding. “I’m not going anywhere, Asher. I’ll be here as long as your mom wants me.”
Aria, oblivious to the tension, piped up again. “Why do you look like us? Are you and Mommy gonna make another baby?”
I choked on my water, coughing as I set the glass down. “Aria, enough!”
Cassian laughed, a rich, warm sound that filled the room. “You two are full of big questions, huh? I look like you because... well, sometimes people just do. As for babies, let’s just say your mom and I are happy with you two troublemakers for now.”
The twins giggled, satisfied, and I exhaled, grateful for his deft handling.
The rest of the dinner passed in a blur of their chatter and Cassian’s playful banter, his ease with them stirring something dangerous in me—a hope I couldn’t afford.
After dinner, I cleared the plates, the kitchen now quiet save for the soft clink of dishes as I washed them in the sink.
The warm water soothed my hands, but my mind churned, replaying the twins’ questions, Cassian’s laughter, the way his presence filled the house.
I dried my hands and stepped out of the kitchen, only to find Cassian leaning against the hallway wall, his arms crossed, his eyes locked on me.
“How long will you keep distancing yourself from me?” he asked, his voice low, almost pleading.
I stopped, the hardwood cool under my feet, and faced him. “We have nothing to talk about, Cassian.”
Truth was, these four days had changed something.
Seeing him with Asher and Aria—the way he knelt to their level, the way their laughter seemed to light him up—had melted a corner of my heart, despite my best efforts to keep it frozen.
His cold facade was gone, replaced by a warmth that made it hard to hate him.
“Why aren’t you wearing glasses anymore? I thought you were nearly blind back then.”
He shrugged. “They healed over time. Money fixes a lot, doesn’t it?”
He reached out, his hands finding my waist, pulling me gently against him.
His scent—cedar and something faintly sweet—flooded my senses, and I didn’t push him away, my body betraying me. “Charlotte,” he murmured, “what else can I do to make you... at least warm up to me?”
“Nothing,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, but I stayed in his arms, the warmth of his touch disarming me.
“This version of you is killing me,” he said, frustration lacing his words. “Cold, distant... it’s not you.”
I pulled back slightly, meeting his eyes. “Why did it take six years, Cassian? I get that you were scared, pushing me away to protect me while you dealt with your illness. But six years? That’s not love—that’s abandonment.”
