Page 58 of Unapologetic Obsession
“I-I don’t know what to say, Rose.”
“It was a long time ago, before the Ambanis and Maxwells became mortal enemies.”
“I never realized you guys had such a deep history. Then how come he’s?—”
“Indifferent toward me?” I finished for her. “I doubt Damon wants to rock the boat with his family because we spent one afternoon together a decade ago. That day meant everything to me. It changed my life. But to him, he was just helping another desperate kid with braces, pimples, and Raggedy Ann hair.”
She snorted, and I sighed.
I couldn’t control my feelings. I felt tethered to him, unable to break free from this bond, even though I knew it wouldn’t amount to much. As I grew older, I had hoped to grow out of it. Instead, I was consumed by my emotions.
I didn’t want to feel this way—this unrequited love—for the rest of my life. If I had one chance with him, I wouldn’t waste it. I would kiss him, feel him, ask him to hold me. Damon would never reciprocate my feelings, but I couldn’t imagine myself with anyone else.
The thought pushed me into panic mode.
“Excuse me for a second.”
“Are you okay?”
I nodded and walked past Amelie, needing a moment to regroup. The drinks had left me feeling warm and fuzzy, and I stumbled a little. I was drunker than I had realized. I tried to find an empty corner, but the main level was jam-packed. I descended the staircase to the second floor and secured a quiet spot on the balcony instead. I looked out at the dark water and thought back to Professor Maxwell’s words from a few weeks ago. He had encouraged me to let go of things that didn’t serve me. Oddly enough, his advice applied to my love life, too.
“If it doesn’t serve you, it ruins you. Don’t continue with finance if you’re bad at it.” Professor Maxwell had been encouraging me to fully embrace science at every meal we shared. That day was no different as he plated our lunches, assuring me the food was made with the best ingredients.
I had grinned in amusement. Professor Maxwell always sought the best—best students, best staff, best lab, and even the best ingredients in his food. Most of all, he valued the best minds, so I was surprised he had skipped the symposium currently happening across campus. For once, he had the green light to do precisely as he wished—cancel class and surround himself with like-minded intellectuals from his field. For some reason, he declined and proceeded with the lecture. Lately, he had become more invested in this class, and even on the days he had legitimate reasons to cancel, he was resolute in not doing so. After class, we had lunch in the break room, and the conversation inadvertently shifted to my life goals.
He claimed the seat across from me and gazed at me expectantly. I was seized by my usual anxiety and dropped my gaze to the ground. The man interacted with the most brilliant minds in the world. There were supposed to be two Nobel laureates at the symposium today. I was far removed from the circles he was accustomed to and often wondered whether I was boring him.
“You seem disappointed,” he said.
I had followed his gaze and realized he was referring to the spread in front of us—avocado salad, chickpea wrap, and chia pudding.
“Not at all. It looks delicious.”
“As delicious as this?” With a slight grin, he reached under the booth and pulled out a bag. I had almost screamed when I saw the label on the bag—Magnolia Bakery. It was my favorite, but I doubt he knew that. It merely happened to be the most famous bakery in New York.
I had been using alternative sweeteners in my baking because sugar inflamed my scars, but God, I needed a dose of the real thing. I inhaled two of the cupcakes, thanking him profusely for the cheat day and asking him again if he was sure he didn’t want to attend the symposium.
“Stop asking me the same question. I’d rather discuss your term paper. Did you choose a topic?”
Chastened, I played with the cupcake wrapper. “Asymmetric synthesis and its importance in drug development. But I haven’t selected a technique yet for the lab portion.”
“Start with a deep dive into real-world drug case studies.”
“Like thalidomide?”
He nodded, then proceeded to give me advice, even though he had told the rest of the students not to bother him with their term paper. I couldn’t help the smile on my face. Despite my trepidation, Professor Maxwell had somehow become a friend and a confidant. Not that I would utter such bold statements in his presence. No one dared to bestow him with such titles, and despite our lukewarm relationship, I was careful never to overstep the liberties he allowed me.
My mind had taken a detour, catching me off guard. I came to reexamine my feelings for Damon and ended up spending mytime thinking about his twin instead. With a sigh, I turned just as the man in question reached me. My eyes widened.
Damon.
“Hi.” What was he doing here? Did he come searching for me? But Damon had never initiated an interaction with me. I was sure he could see the questions dancing in my eyes. “You’re here.”
“Were you expecting someone else?” he asked.
I shook my head. Whenever we ran into each other, Damon politely said hello and then immediately excused himself or avoided me for the rest of the party. But tonight, his hand was resting on the railing, his posture was relaxed, and he seemed to be settling in for a long chat. Nothing about his body language said he would cut the conversation short.
“You’ve snuck onto the only floor that’s off-limits. I guess I shouldn’t ask whether you were having a good time at the party—hiding so soon after arriving late.”
