Forbidden Obsession: The Summer He Claimed for Himself

The salty sea breeze carried the scent of waves, flowing through the open white window frames and gently caressing every corner of the “Cassandra” vacation home. Sunlight generously floods the living room, dancing across the polished wooden floors, while the air is filled with the rich aroma of coffee and the warm, sweet scent of freshly baked bread. Another summer belonging to the Fisher and Conklin families unfolds amidst the familiar sound of the waves. Talia Fisher walks barefoot across the slightly cool floor, carefully placing a freshly brewed cup of herbal tea, fragrant with a hint of herbs, on the coffee table beside the sofa. On the couch, Susan Fisher—her mother, her benefactor, and the person she was determined to protect—was wrapped in a thin woolen shawl, flipping through a novel. Her complexion was much better than the emaciated appearance she had when she was ravaged by illness, though she still looked a bit tired. However, the sparkle in her eyes and the gentle smile on her lips were genuine. “Dear, thank you,” Susanna lifted her head, her gaze filled with tenderness and pride as she looked at Talia. “This herbal tea has a unique flavor; it makes me feel so much more comfortable.” “It's meant to help calm the mind and relax, Mom. Drink more of it.” Talia sat naturally on the carpet beside Susanna's feet, resting her head gently on her mother's knee. This intimate gesture was a habit left by the original owner, and it was also a testament to Talia's heartfelt reliance. In her previous life, her 25-year-old life ended on a cold operating table due to a failing heart. In this life, she cherished her healthy body, warm family, and especially her mother who illuminated everyone like sunlight. She would never allow such a tragedy to repeat itself. It was precisely because of her “time traveler's foreknowledge” that, from the moment she understood, she insisted with an almost stubborn attitude that Susan undergo a comprehensive and detailed physical examination once a month. At first, her family dismissed it as a child's irrational obsession with health. However, as Talia persisted and demonstrated medical knowledge far beyond her age (thanks to her intensive study of relevant information from her previous life and her diligent learning in this one), Susanna and Adam eventually relented. This seemingly minor change was like a pebble tossed into the river of fate, creating crucial ripples—Susanna's ovarian cancer was detected at an extremely early stage and underwent surgery. Although further treatment and close monitoring are still required, the prognosis is far better than the cruel late-stage diagnosis in the original story. This is Talia's greatest achievement and the origin of all her efforts. “Hey, Talia! Have you seen my surfboard?” Jeremiah Fisher, Talia's nominal older brother, burst in like a tropical storm, his blond hair disheveled, a bright smile on his face, and the fresh scent of seawater lingering around him. He was still that carefree, energetic young man, and even at eighteen, his pure joy remained unchanged. “In the back of the storage room, next to your baseball bat.” Talia didn't even look up, answering lazily. She had a pure, affectionate bond with this sunny, outgoing older brother. “Thanks, my good sister!” Jeremiah dashed past like a whirlwind, ruffled Talia’s hair, and shouted to Susan, “Mom, the sea conditions are amazing today! I’m going to conquer the waves!” Before his words had even faded, he had already disappeared down the corridor leading to the storage room. Susan shook her head helplessly yet affectionately, her gaze following her youngest son’s retreating figure. Talia could sense a faint trace of worry in her mother’s eyes—concern about Jeremiah’s future and his seemingly unsteady heart. But Talia knew that when the truth (about her mother’s more severe condition, which the family had kept from Jeremiah to avoid affecting his college entrance exams) and a sense of responsibility truly weighed on him, Jeremiah would grow up. Just then, the door leading from the living room to the terrace was gently pushed open. A calmer, deeper aura filled the room. Conrad Fischer walked in. He wore a simple white T-shirt and khaki shorts, his tall, slender frame and broad shoulders betraying the transition from adolescence to young adulthood. He had just finished swimming, and his wet black hair was casually swept back, revealing a full, smooth forehead and deep-set eyes. Droplets of water trickled down his sharply defined jawline, landing on his collarbone and leaving sparkling trails. His gaze swept across the living room, carrying an innate reserve and a subtle hint of fatigue. Talia's heart skipped a beat the moment she saw him. In her previous life as a reader, she had already felt a deep sympathy and affection for this melancholic, passionate character. Now, as his sister who spent every day with him, seeing him exist in reality made those feelings even more complex and profound. She knew where his fatigue and silence came from—he was the only person in the family, besides her parents and herself, who knew the full truth about Susan's condition. That heavy sense of responsibility and fear of the future weighed on his young shoulders like invisible shackles. “Con, come sit down,” Susan said gently. Conrad walked over as instructed, but instead of sitting on the sofa, he sat cross-legged on the carpet next to his mother, just like Talia. His gaze first fell on his mother to confirm she was okay, then turned to Talia. “Good morning,” he said in a low, slightly hoarse voice from recent exercise. “Good morning, Con.” Talia smiled and handed him the largest strawberry from the fruit plate in front of her. “Just finished swimming? Have some fruit to replenish your energy.” Conrad’s gaze lingered on the strawberry she offered for a moment, then he lifted his eyes and looked deeply into hers. That gaze was no longer simply that of an older brother looking at his younger sister; it contained too many things Talia dared not dwell on—trust, dependence, a longing for comfort in exhaustion, and a kind of... indescribable focus. He reached out, and as his long fingers took the strawberry, they deliberately or inadvertently brushed against Talia's fingertips. A faint electric current shot through Talia’s arm, making her instinctively want to pull her hand back, but she forced herself to stay calm. She lowered her eyelids, pretending to focus on the blueberries in the fruit bowl. Conrad didn’t eat the strawberry immediately; he just held it in his hand, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing its smooth skin. He remained silent for a few seconds before speaking, his voice lowered so that only the three of them could hear: Last night... I looked at Mom's test results.“ He looked at Susanna, his eyes betraying his concern. ”The CA125 levels are slightly higher than last month." The relaxed atmosphere in the living room froze instantly. Susanna's smile faded slightly, and she sighed softly. Talia's heart tightened, but she immediately took her mother's hand and looked up at Conrad with an unwavering gaze. “Con, look at me.” Her voice was clear and steady, carrying a soothing strength beyond her years. "CA125 is just a reference indicator. Fluctuations are normal, especially during Mom's treatment. It doesn't mean the condition has worsened. We'll meet with Dr. Evans as planned next week, and he'll provide a professional assessment. And,“ she emphasized, her gaze locked on Conrad's eyes, as deep and melancholy as the ocean, ”you must trust Mom's treatment plan, trust the doctors, and most importantly, trust the efforts we've been making. Mom has a strong constitution, and we detected this so early. As long as we persist, things will only get better. I promise you." Her words seemed to carry a magical quality. Conrad’s tense jawline softened slightly, and the turbulent currents in his deep, ocean-like eyes seemed to calm a bit. He looked at her, focused as if she were the only person in the world. Talia's eyes, with their distinct black and white contrast typical of Eastern features, were now filled with an unwavering certainty and gentle strength, like an anchor pulling him back from the whirlpool of anxiety. “Hmm.” After a long pause, Conrad finally murmured in response, his voice carrying a dependence he hadn't even noticed himself. He lowered his head and took a bite of the strawberry in his hand, the sweet juice melting in his mouth. He looked up at Talia again, the shadows in his eyes seeming to have dissipated, leaving only a deep, focused gentleness. “I know you're here.” The words were spoken softly, but they struck Talia’s heart like a heavy blow. She felt her cheeks grow warm and hurriedly averted her gaze, picking up a blueberry and popping it into her mouth to hide the sudden flutter in her heart. She could feel Conrad’s gaze still fixed on her, filled with curiosity and a… warmth that made her heart race. Just then, the sound of a car approaching and familiar commotion came from outside. Steven Conklin's booming voice could be heard from a distance: “Hey! Fisher family! We're here! Are you ready to be taken over by the Conklin family this summer?” Next came Laurel Parker's gentle greeting and a young girl's crisp, deliberately cheerful response: Cassandra! I'm back!" The Conklin family had arrived. And that young girl's voice belonged to Isabelle “Bella” Conklin. The softness on Talia's face faded slightly. She stood up and walked to the window. In the sunlight, a station wagon had just come to a stop. A young girl in a floral dress, slender yet curvaceous, jumped out of the car. She removed her sunglasses, revealing a meticulously made-up face—pale skin, bright eyes, rosy lips, exuding a newly blossomed, deliberately showcased beauty. It was that summer when she had transformed into beauty. Bailey Conklin. The original protagonist was the person Talia could least bring herself to like in this world. As she watched Bailey get out of the car, her gaze immediately darted toward the vacation house, precisely locking onto Conrad’s figure standing by the window. The sudden burst of admiration and determination in those eyes caused Talia to furrow her brows slightly. She knew Bailey had secretly loved Conrad since childhood. As a reader in her previous life, she might have understood the bittersweet nature of a young girl's feelings. But now, being immersed in the situation, witnessing Bailey's indecision between the two brothers in the original story, the immense harm she ultimately caused Conrad, and now, the intense possessiveness in Bailey's eyes toward Conrad and the subtle disregard—even rejection—of her “sister” status... all of it made Talia uncomfortable. Especially when Belly’s gaze swept across the room and landed on Talia sitting beside Conrad, the loving glow in her eyes seemed to fade instantly, replaced by a scrutinizing and barely perceptible wariness. Though Belly quickly broke into a bright smile and waved toward the room, Talia had caught that fleeting emotion. “Belly has changed, hasn't she?” At some point, Conrad had also walked to the window, standing beside Talia, very close to her. His voice sounded in her ear, tinged with a hint of... indifference? Talia turned her head in surprise to look at him. Conrad's gaze fell on the carefully dressed girl outside the window, his eyes calm and unruffled, even a little distant, completely lacking any of the excitement or emotion Talia had expected. He seemed to be stating a fact that had nothing to do with him. “Yes, she's much prettier now,” Talia said objectively, but she felt strangely relieved by Conrad's indifferent reaction. Conrad’s gaze shifted away from Belle and returned to Talia’s face. His eyes lingered on the delicate contours of her profile, and that focused gaze once again made Talia feel a pang of unease. He leaned in slightly, coming closer, his deep voice carrying a warm breath that brushed against her ear: “Is that so?” His tone was flat, tinged with a barely perceptible hint of mockery. “I don't see anything special about it.” He paused, his gaze sweeping over the fair skin of Talia's neck, exposed beneath her loosely tied hair, his expression growing darker. “In my eyes, some people are beautiful from childhood to adulthood; they don't need a summer to ‘become beautiful.’” Talia’s heart skipped a beat, as if something had collided with it forcefully. She suddenly turned to look at Conrad, meeting his deep, ocean-like eyes. There was no trace of his usual melancholy; instead, there was an open, unabashed admiration and… a burning emotion that was almost unbearable for her. Was he talking about her? This had already crossed the boundaries of a sibling relationship! Her cheeks flushed instantly, the blush spreading all the way to her ears. She opened her mouth but found she couldn't utter a sound. Conrad watched her flustered expression, a faint smile flickering in the depths of his eyes, too fleeting to catch. He no longer looked at her, straightening up as if the nearly confessional remark had been offhand. “Let’s go greet the guests.” His tone returned to normal as he led the way toward the door. Talia remained standing in place, her heart pounding like a drum, her fingertips still tingling from his earlier, almost imperceptible touch. Outside the window, Belle was walking toward the door with her brother Steven’s arm around her waist, her smile bright as she eagerly followed Conrad’s tall figure with her eyes. Talia took a deep breath, suppressing the fluttering and confusion in her heart. She knew her feelings for Conrad were no longer pure, but she had always carefully avoided acknowledging them. Yet Conrad’s words earlier were like a boulder dropped into a calm lake, shattering the peace she had carefully maintained. The gears of fate had already deviated from the original storyline. Her mother's condition was under control, Jeremiah had yet to face any storms, and the thin veil of “siblinghood” between her and Conrad seemed to have been quietly torn open by Conrad's casual yet earth-shattering words at the beginning of this summer. A new summer had begun. And Talia clearly sensed that this summer, surrounding her, Conrad, and the newly transformed Belle, would not be peaceful. Her battle had only just begun. She not only had to protect her mother's health but also her own heart, which had already lost its rhythm under Conrad's deep gaze. ---