His Forbidden Craving (Dark Romance Dad's Best Friend)

Chapter 5

Estora

September 8th 2019
Age:18
The next morning, the sunlight streamed through my window, harsh and uninvited, pulling me from the fragile cocoon of sleep. My mind was still tangled in the events of the night before, the feel of Zero's lips on mine, the way his hands had held me like I was something precious. It all felt like a dream, too intense, too surreal. But the memory of it was all too real, and my heart ached with a mix of anticipation and fear as I got dressed.
I couldn’t wait to see him again, to feel that rush of emotions we shared. Maybe this was going to be complicated, maybe it was even wrong, but I didn’t care. I was falling for him—no, I had already fallen, and I was ready to see where this would take us. When I finally made my way downstairs, the house was quiet. My dad had left early for work, leaving just me and the lingering tension from the night before. I hesitated for a moment before deciding to go to Zero's place. I needed to see him, to talk to him. To figure out what this was between us, where we were going. I stepped outside and walked over to his house, my heart thudding in my chest with every step. When I reached his door, I hesitated, a sudden wave of nerves washing over me. What if he regretted it? What if he had already decided this was a mistake?
Taking a deep breath, I knocked softly. A few moments later, the door creaked open, and there he was. But instead of the warmth I had felt last night, his expression was closed off, distant. My heart sank.
"Hey," I said softly, searching his eyes for any sign of the man who had held me so tightly just hours ago. "Morning," he replied, his voice flat, not at all like the man who had whispered promises to me in the dark. He stepped aside to let me in, but the distance between us felt like an ocean.
As I walked into the living room, I turned to face him, hoping to see some glimmer of the connection we had shared. But his gaze was fixed on the floor, his shoulders tense. I knew, even before he said anything, that something had changed.
"About last night…" he started, his voice strained. He finally looked up at me, and the regret in his eyes hit me like a punch to the gut. "We can’t do this. I should’ve never let it go that far."
His words felt like ice water being poured over me. I had braced myself for this, but it still hurt more than I could have imagined. "What are you saying, Zero?" I asked, my voice barely holding steady. "That it didn’t mean anything to you?"
He sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly struggling with the words. "Of course it meant something," he said, his tone heavy with frustration. "But that’s exactly why it has to stop. This… us… it can’t happen. It was a mistake."
I stared at him, the sting of his words cutting deeper than I thought possible. "A mistake?" I echoed, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. "So, everything you said, everything you did… that was just nothing to you?"
"No," he said quickly, stepping closer but not quite meeting my eyes. "It wasn’t nothing, and that’s the problem. I can’t let this go any further. I care about you, but it’s not right. You deserve someone who can give you everything, not someone who has to sneak around in the shadows." I shook my head, tears stinging the back of my eyes. "I don’t care about any of that," I whispered, my voice cracking. "I just care about you." He closed his eyes for a moment, clearly fighting some internal battle. When he opened them again, they were filled with pain. "But you should care," he said softly. "You deserve better than this, better than me. I can’t do this to you, or to your dad. It’s just… it’s too messed up."
I felt like the ground had been ripped out from under me. "So, what now? We just pretend it never happened?" I asked, my voice thick with emotion. He looked away, unable to face the hurt he was causing. "It has to be that way," he said quietly. "We both need to move on."
The finality in his tone shattered whatever hope I had left. My heart broke into a thousand pieces as I realized that he wasn’t just saying this for my sake—he believed it. He was letting me go, walking away from whatever we could have had. And it hurt like hell.
"Zero, please," I whispered, reaching out to him one last time, desperate for him to change his mind. But he took a step back, his jaw clenched, his eyes filled with the pain of his decision. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But this is how it has to be."
Tears blurred my vision as I stood there, realizing that this was it. He had made his choice, and there was nothing I could do to change it. The man I had fallen for was slipping away, and I was powerless to stop it. Without another word, I turned and walked out of his house, the tears finally spilling over as I made my way back home. My heart was shattered, the pain so overwhelming I could barely breathe. I had never felt so broken, so lost.
And as I closed the door behind me, the weight of his rejection settled over me like a heavy blanket, suffocating and cold. He had told me to move on, but I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. Not when I still loved him, not when he had taken a piece of my heart with him. But no matter how much it hurt, I knew I had to find a way to pick up the pieces and move forward. Even if it felt impossible. Even if the pain never fully went away. A few hours after the painful confrontation with Zero, I was left alone in the quiet house. My dad had taken Zero out fishing, leaving me with nothing but my turbulent thoughts and the crushing weight of rejection. I needed answers, something to make sense of the emotional storm inside me. Zero’s journal, which I remembered seeing in his living room, seemed like my only hope for understanding his sudden change of heart.
I took a deep breath, gathered my courage, and made my way to Zero’s house. The sun was dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows across the street. My heart pounded as I approached, the urgency of my mission pushing me forward. I glanced around to make sure no one was watching before slipping around the side of the house.
The window I had seen before was slightly ajar. I carefully pried it open and climbed through, landing softly on the carpeted floor. The house was eerily quiet, filled only with the soft hum of the refrigerator and the distant sound of crickets. I moved quickly through the darkened rooms, heading straight for the living room where I knew the journal was kept. My hands were trembling as I found the journal, tucked between some books on a low shelf. I sat down on the couch, my heart racing as I opened it, hoping it would provide some clarity.
The journal was filled with Zero’s neat, precise handwriting. I skimmed through the entries, searching for anything that might explain his actions. And then, as I flipped through a few pages, something caught my eye: a section with photographs. My breath caught in my throat as I saw the familiar images—photos of me, from various stages of my life.
There were pictures of me from when I was fifteen—at school events, family gatherings, and candid moments. My heart pounded as I realized the extent of what I was looking at. Zero had been documenting my life for years, and not just casually. There were notes scribbled beside some of the photos, detailing my outfits, my friends, and even my routines.
One entry stood out, filled with a chilling mix of admiration and obsession:

*“She’s growing up so fast. It’s hard to believe how much she’s changed since I first met her. I’ve kept track of her for years now, always from a distance, always careful not to intrude. But every time I see her, I’m reminded of how deeply I care. It’s more than attraction; it’s an all-consuming need to be close to her, to understand her. I know it’s wrong, but I can’t stop myself.”*
The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. Zero had been watching me, following me in secret, obsessing over me for years. What I had thought was a forbidden romance was, in reality, something far more disturbing. His feelings, while real, had manifested into something unhealthy and invasive.
I continued to read, my hands shaking as I flipped through more pages. There were detailed notes about my habits, my preferences, and even observations about my interactions with others. It was clear that Zero had been more than just a distant admirer; he had been closely monitoring me, unable to let go of his obsession.

Another entry read:

“I know this is dangerous. I know I’m crossing lines that should never be crossed. But I can’t help myself. Every time I see her, every time I get closer to her, I feel a mix of exhilaration and terror. I’m afraid of what might happen if anyone finds out. I’m afraid of losing her, but I’m also afraid of what I might become if I continue down this path.”Tears streamed down my face as I read the disturbing revelations. What had I thought was love had been tainted by something far darker. Zero’s obsession had turned into a secret, controlling force that had driven him to the brink of crossing moral and ethical boundaries.
I closed the journal, feeling a wave of nausea and heartbreak. The man I had fallen for had been hiding a disturbing truth, and his rejection now felt like a merciful escape from something far more sinister. I placed the journal back on the shelf, my mind reeling from the realization.
I climbed out of the window, the cool evening air hitting my face as I made my way back home. The pain of Zero’s rejection was now compounded by the horrifying truth of his obsession. I was left grappling with a profound sense of betrayal and fear, struggling to process the unsettling reality of what I had uncovered. Back in my room, I lay on my bed, the weight of the day’s events heavy on my chest. The love I had felt for Zero was now shadowed by the knowledge of his unhealthy fixation. The road ahead was uncertain, but I knew I had to find a way to heal and move on from the toxic entanglement that had been part of my life for far too long.