Page 107 of The Sweetest Obsession

Halfway through the film, his arm stretches across the back of Nell’s seat so his forearm rests lightly on my shoulders. Grant walks his fingers up and down my arm, something I can feel even through the thick jacket.

I love this vibe.

This quiet, simple thing might be the cure I need.

Erasing all the pain, all the hurt, all the bad memories of this town for just one night, making this place feel like home again.

My face hurts from smiling by the time the movie ends.

It’s like the first half of the day never happened.

I never thought I could go so easily from feeling so upset, so hurt, to so enchanted.

Like all my problems fade away into a dream and soon I’m back where I belong.

Nell looks hilariously drowsy by the time the lights come up. Toward the end of the movie her shrieking laughter died down to a quiet smile.

Now Grant lifts her up to ride piggyback, one arm hooked under her knee.

His other hand tangles in mine.

Quietly, easily, such a small thing and yet it fills me with brightness.

I’m pretty sure Nell’s totally out by the time we buckle her into the back seat.

I’m expecting to head back to Grant’s house, put Nell to bed, and if I’m lucky get a long kiss at the door to the guest room.

I’m not expecting it when Grant turns off a more familiar street, instead, and drives us to his parents’ house.

The porch light is already on.

His folks are waiting—wait, was this planned?

They come out and gather Nell, but not without hugs for me.

They’re huggers by nature, always have been, and that feeling ofhomeintensifies.

As Mrs. Faircross lifts Nell up, though, Nell reaches for me, her fingers fumbling sleepily.

“I’m... m’gonna break my promise...” she mumbles with her eyes closed. “About my homework.”

Grant gives me a puzzled look. I smile sheepishly.

“She didn’t want to finish her homework before the movie,” I explain. “So she pinky promised me she’d do it after if I let her go pick out an outfit.”

“Ah.” He nods at her pink dress, then leans in and kisses the little girl’s forehead.

Yep. He’s trying to turn my ovaries into live grenades tonight.

“You can do it in the morning, Nelly-girl,” he tells her. “It’s my fault you broke your promise to Philia. You didn’t do any wrong.” A little smile sneaks past his beard. “Love you, rug rat.”

“Uncle Grant.” Nell sighs, lifting her head to press a kiss into his beard. “Love you, papa bear.”

“Papa bear?” I look at him, barely holding in a laugh.

He shakes his head rapidly.

Margaret Faircross smiles fondly and nudges Grant’s arm. “I’ve got her, Son. Go enjoy the rest of your night out. Both of you.”

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