Obsession Of A Psychopath ☠︎︎

Chapter 30: 𝑩𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝑯𝒐𝒎𝒆

3 months later……….

I tiptoed down the hallway, morning light spilling through the windows. Outside Blue’s room, I paused, hearing her soft snores. I knocked gently on the door.

“Blue, time to wake up!” I called, keeping my voice low. “Breakfast is almost ready.”

There was a rustle, then a muffled groan. “Five more minutes,” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

I smiled, knowing she would say that. “Mom and Dad will be upset if we’re late. Get up!”

After a moment, the door creaked open. Blue stood there, her hair a wild mess, bright blue eyes blinking at me. “Fine, I’m up,” she grumbled, dragging herself toward the bathroom.

It had been three months since I ran away from Hunter—or rather, since he had let me go. Returning home felt surreal. I was always on edge, glancing over my shoulder, half-expecting Hunter to appear and pull me back into that chaotic world.

I couldn’t hide from my past, and I couldn’t share it with anyone either.

But honestly, life with him hadn’t been harder than what I faced back in this so-called ‘home.’

I headed to the kitchen, where the smell of pancakes filled the air. I had spent the early morning cooking, a hobby I cherished even though my parents disapproved. The dining room was set with fine china, gleaming under the soft light, a stark contrast to the warm, casual meals I preferred.

Blue joined me, now dressed in her school uniform, looking a bit more awake.

As we took our seats, our parents entered, their expressions serious. “Good morning, my loves” Mom greeted.

“Good morning, Mother,” I replied, forcing a polite smile. Blue echoed me, her gaze downcast.

“Did you cook again Amanda?” Mom asked, eyeing the spread.

“Yes, I made a simple breakfast today; pancakes, scrambled eggs, some fruit salads and avocado toast,” I said, feeling my heart race under Dad’s scrutinizing gaze.

“It looks really pretty! Did you take a food design class while you were away?” Blue asked, snapping a picture of the breakfast spread.

I smiled softly, warmth spreading in my chest. “Not exactly. I picked up some tips from someone who really liked to decorate plates,” I replied, memories of Hunter’s careful presentations flashing in my mind. He always made sure my meals looked special, each plate a little work of art.

Blue tilted her head, curiosity shining in her bright blue eyes. “I wish I could do that. It makes the food look so much more appetizing!”

“Maybe we can practice together sometime,” I suggested, feeling a flicker of excitement at the thought.

Her smile widened, and for a moment, the tension of the morning faded.

Dad leaned back, arms crossed. “Why do you waste your time cooking? We have staff for that. You should focus on your studies—preparing to take over the company. That’s what’s important.”

I clenched my jaw, keeping my voice steady. “It’s just a hobby. It won’t affect my studies, I promise.”

“Cooking is useless when you have people to do it for you,” he replied, disappointment creeping into his tone. “You should be focusing on more useful hobbies .”

Blue shifted uncomfortably in her seat, blue eyes darting between our parents and me, clearly unsure whether to speak up.

“By the way, Amanda, Mrs. Alitu is coming for dinner tonight,” Mom announced.

I felt a knot form in my stomach. “This is another blind date with Brandon, isn’t it?” I asked, my voice tinged with exasperation.

Since my return, Brandon had been relentless. He bombarded me with flowers and phone calls, while my parents nudged me to reconnect. They set up blind dates and family visits, and it all felt overwhelming. I couldn’t escape his presence, and the pressure was suffocating.

“Mom, I don’t have feelings for Brandon anymore. His presence makes me uncomfortable, especially after everything,” I explained, frustration spilling out.

Mom gently held my hands, her touch both comforting and concerning. “Amanda, all I want is to see you happy. You know that, right?”

“Yes, Mom, but Brandon—”

“I know you’re scared after what happened. But relationships require compromise. Your dad and I have stayed together by understanding each other,” she said, her voice steady.

“Brandon isn’t perfect. He regrets what he did. He’s been asking about you, wanting to talk,” she added, her tone sympathetic.

“Mom, he almost raped me. Regret doesn’t change that,” I shot back, my heart racing.

“Amanda, some men make mistakes. It’s not fair to hold it against him forever,” she insisted.

“Why him? There are plenty of other guys. Why do I have to settle for someone like him?” I burst out, frustration boiling over.

Dad’s voice cut in, calm but firm. “Why are you raising your voice at your mother? We’re having a meal; don’t ruin it for everyone.”

I clenched my fists, gaze fixed on the table. I bit my lip, trying to hold back tears.

“I… I’m sorry, Mom,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

Mom stood, wrapping her arms around me in a warm embrace. It felt comforting and suffocating at the same time.

“It’s okay. Just think things over, my love,” she urged, planting a gentle kiss on my forehead.

As she held me, I felt a familiar weight in my chest. I had escaped one cage only to find myself in another.

I missed Hunter. The thought echoed in my mind.