Unwritten Obsession - Joe Goldberg

Chapter 22: The Color of Jealousy

Joe

It starts small. A flicker of irritation, like an itch I can't quite scratch.

Juliet and I are sitting in a small café just a few blocks from her apartment. It's cozy and quiet, a perfect little hideaway. She insisted we go out—something about needing fresh air and a change of scenery—and I, of course, couldn't say no.

At first, everything feels fine. More than fine. She's more relaxed than I've ever seen her, leaning back in her chair as she sips her coffee, a small smile playing on her lips. She's wearing a sweater that's just a little too big, the sleeves brushing against her fingertips, and I can't help but think she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

But then he shows up.

The door swings open, and the bell above it chimes. I don't think much of it until I see Juliet's expression shift—just slightly, but enough for me to notice. Her smile falters, her body tenses, and then she straightens in her chair, her hand gripping her mug a little tighter.

I follow her gaze and spot him immediately. He's tall, broad-shouldered, with a sharp jawline and an easy smile that I already hate. He's wearing a leather jacket, like he stepped straight out of some low-budget romance movie, and when he sees Juliet, his face lights up.

"Juliet!" he says, his voice loud enough to draw the attention of everyone in the café.

Juliet forces a smile, raising a hand in a half-hearted wave. "Hey, Mark."

Mark. Of course, his name is Mark.

He walks over to our table without hesitation, his eyes flicking to me briefly before settling on Juliet like I don't even exist.

"I didn't know you were back in town," he says, his tone casual but too familiar.

"Yeah," Juliet replies, her voice tight. "Just laying low."

His gaze lingers on her for a moment before he smirks. "Well, you look good."

She shifts uncomfortably, and I can feel my jaw clench.

I know this type. He's the guy who thinks he's entitled to attention, to affection, just because he has a nice smile and a few charming words. And I know Juliet doesn't owe me anything, but the way he's looking at her—like she's something he can take—it makes my blood boil.

"Who's this?" Mark asks suddenly, finally acknowledging my presence.

"Joe," Juliet says quickly. "He's, uh... a friend."

Friend.

The word shouldn't bother me, but it does. It sits heavy in my chest, pressing down on the part of me that knows I'm more than that.

"Nice to meet you, Joe," Mark says, his smile too wide, too smug. He extends a hand, and I take it reluctantly, his grip firm like he's trying to establish dominance.

I squeeze harder.

"Likewise," I say, my tone calm but edged.

Mark chuckles, pulling his hand back. "Well, I won't keep you two. Just wanted to say hi."

He winks at Juliet, and I have to fight the urge to stand up, to do something. Anything.

"See you around," he says, and then he's gone, leaving the door swinging shut behind him.

Juliet exhales sharply, setting her mug down with a little more force than necessary.

"Sorry about that," she says, her voice quiet.

"Who is he?" I ask, keeping my tone neutral.

She hesitates, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Just... someone I used to know. We worked together for a while. He's harmless."

Harmless. Sure.

I don't press her, but the tension doesn't leave me. Instead, it coils tighter, a knot of jealousy and something darker twisting in my chest.

I know I shouldn't feel this way. I know Juliet isn't mine to control, that her past isn't something I have any right to be upset about. But logic doesn't stop the images that flash through my mind—the idea of Mark touching her, kissing her, knowing her in ways I'm still trying to.

The thought makes my stomach churn.

Juliet must sense my mood because she reaches across the table, her fingers brushing against mine.

"Hey," she says softly. "Don't let him get to you. He's not important."

Her touch soothes me, but it doesn't erase the anger simmering beneath the surface.

"You don't owe me an explanation," I say, my voice steady but clipped. "But if he makes you uncomfortable, I need to know."

Her eyes soften, and she gives me a small smile. "You don't need to worry about Mark, Joe. He's just a flirt. Nothing more."

I nod, but the tension doesn't fully leave me.

The rest of our time at the café passes quietly, but the encounter with Mark lingers in my mind.

Later, when we're back at Juliet's apartment, she seems more at ease, humming softly to herself as she moves around the kitchen. I sit on the couch, watching her, my mind still racing.

"Joe," she says, breaking me from my thoughts.

"Yeah?"

She leans against the counter, her arms crossed. "You've been quiet."

I shrug, trying to play it off. "Just thinking."

Her brow furrows, and she walks over, sitting beside me. "About Mark?"

I hesitate before nodding. "I didn't like the way he looked at you."

Her lips curve into a small smile, and she reaches for my hand, threading her fingers through mine. "You don't have to worry about him. He's in the past. You're the one here now."

Her words should be enough to calm me, but they only add fuel to the fire burning in my chest.

Because I know what Mark doesn't.

Juliet isn't just some passing interest. She's mine.

And I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe.