Obsessed

Chapter 19

Theo came bounding into the room in his fuzzy dinosaur pajamas, his wet hair sticking up in all directions, smelling faintly of watermelon shampoo. His face was freshly scrubbed, cheeks still rosy from the warm bath.

“Ta-da!” he declared, lifting his arms proudly.

Uncle Gale clapped from the couch, grinning. “Looking sharp, kiddo.”

Uncle Marvin laughed, patting the empty spot next to him. “Come on, little man. Movie’s about to start.”

Theo climbed up onto the couch with exaggerated effort, plopping between his uncles, his little legs curling beneath him as he reached for the blanket draped across the backrest. Gale grabbed the remote, hitting play just as the animated characters began to break into song. Theo’s eyes lit up, completely absorbed.

Meanwhile, Ronnie stood in the dining area gathering the empty plates, utensils, and crumpled napkins. Mark had already picked up the pie dish and was carrying it toward the kitchen.

“I’ll help,” he said simply.

Ronnie glanced up from where she was stacking plates, giving him a small smile. “Thanks.”

They slipped into the kitchen together. The space was warm, a contrast to the cool November air outside. Golden light from the ceiling fixtures spilled across the wooden cabinets and reflected off the stainless-steel appliances. The large refrigerator hummed quietly in the corner, and the white countertops glowed beneath the glow of overhead pendant lights. Exposed wooden beams crossed the ceiling, adding a rustic charm that felt homey and safe. Everything was organized and perfectly labeled, nothing out of place.

Mark moved to the sink, rolling up his sleeves, revealing the muscles and veins in his forearms as he ran the water. Ronnie set down her stack of dishes beside him and opened the dishwasher, meticulously adjusting each plate and bowl into their precise spot.

“Do you always load it like a Tetris pro?” he asked, rinsing off a fork handing it to her.

“I like things to fit,” she replied with a soft laugh. “Symmetry helps me think.”

Mark smirked, handing her a rinsed plate. “I can respect that.”

They worked in comfortable silence for a few minutes. The only sound was the clinking of silverware and the gentle rush of water. Outside the kitchen window, the backyard was cast in soft darkness, the porch light just barely illuminating the frost-tipped grass beyond the white wooden fence.

Ronnie closed the dishwasher with a quiet click, then wiped her hands on a dish towel. Mark was still leaning against the sink, his eyes quietly studying her.

She leaned back against the island, arms crossed over her ribbed knit dress. “Sorry if Uncle Gale said too much earlier,” she said, a little self-conscious. “He… doesn’t really have a filter.”

Mark’s expression softened, a gentle smile playing on his lips. “Don’t apologize for him. He cares about you. That much is obvious.”

She looked down at the floor for a beat, then back up at him through her lashes.

“I don’t know,” Mark said quietly. “Sometimes, the best time for the truth is when you’re surrounded by the people who care the most.”

Ronnie bit her lip, unsure what to say to that. Something about the way he was looking at her made it hard to breathe.

Mark pushed off the sink, his movements slow, deliberate. He took one step toward her. Then another.

Ronnie stayed where she was, her heart beginning to pound in her chest.

He didn’t speak as he crossed the last bit of space between them. His hand rose gently, his fingers brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. Then his palm settled lightly against her cheek, his thumb just beneath her eye, holding her gaze with unspoken tenderness.

Ronnie didn’t flinch.

Her skin buzzed where he was touching her, warmth spreading down her neck, across her chest. She didn’t pull away—didn’t want to. Her breathing slowed, her lips parting slightly. Her hands dropped to her sides, then slowly gripped the edge of the countertop behind her as if to ground herself.

Mark’s face inched closer. She tilted her chin up to meet him. Their foreheads almost touched. Their lips barely brushed.

And then—

“RONNIE!” Theo’s voice rang through the house. “IT’S OUR FAVORITE PART! HURRY!”

The second Theo’s voice echoed down the hall, both Ronnie and Mark jumped back like they’d been caught doing something they weren’t supposed to.

Ronnie cleared her throat quickly, eyes darting to the side as she awkwardly began to tug at the ends of her sleeves—stretching them, smoothing them, anything to give her fingers something to do.

“I should…” she murmured.

Mark gave a quick nod, stepping back toward the sink. “Yeah… yeah, of course.”

She turned and walked briskly out of the kitchen, the heels of her boots clicking softly against the tile as she disappeared into the warm glow of the hallway.

Mark stood frozen for a beat longer, staring at the space where she’d just been. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly as he tried to collect himself. The tension in the kitchen had shifted so fast it left him dizzy—warm, breathless, and frustrated in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.

He shook it off, then followed her out, the voices of the uncles and the soft sounds of the movie drawing him into the cozy living room.

Theo was seated squarely in the center of the couch, nestled on the end near Marvin, wrapped in a blanket patterned with stars and constellations. On the screen, animated characters filled the vibrant cityscape of Elemental City, where fire, water, land, and air people coexisted in a beautifully chaotic swirl of color and motion.

Ronnie had taken her seat on the arm of the couch next to Theo, her fingers gently brushing through his damp hair, calming him as she hummed softly under her breath.

Mark stood near the doorway at first, watching her, watching them—how natural she looked, how soft. His heart gave a strange, unfamiliar twist.

Then, as the scene shifted, the music began—soft, ethereal piano notes blooming into a haunting melody.

The beginning of Steal The Show played.

On screen, the fiery young woman and the mellow water guy danced together—awkward at first, then effortlessly. The city lights sparkled around them as the song swelled, each lyric carrying a vulnerability that mirrored the tension that had existed in the kitchen only moments before.

Theo looked up at Ronnie with wide eyes. “It’s our favorite part,” he whispered, as if he needed to explain.

Ronnie smiled, “I know, baby.”

Mark sat down in the armchair across from them, resting his elbows on his knees, watching the screen—but truthfully, watching her more.

She was mouthing the lyrics under her breath, and Theo had leaned his head against her side, humming along, completely entranced. Uncle Gale was already tearing up, sniffling unapologetically into a napkin, while Marvin stared at him with a furrowed brow.

As the lyrics floated through the air, Mark couldn’t help but think about how fitting they were—about how Ronnie had quietly stolen the show in his life, slipping into the corners of his world with her sharp mind, her soft eyes, and the kind of strength that didn’t demand attention, but earned it.

“You’re the sky, I'll be the weather...”

Ronnie’s voice was so quiet as she whispered the line that Mark almost didn’t catch it. But he did. And something about the way she said it made his chest tighten.

By the time the song faded and the movie eased into its next scene, the room was silent. Even Theo was quiet snuggling deeper into Ronnie’s side.

Gale exhaled dramatically. “God, I love that part.”

“I know you do,” Marvin muttered with a smirk, nudging him with his elbow.

Mark leaned back in his chair, letting himself enjoy the quiet moment.

Ronnie looked up at him across the room. Their eyes met—and though she didn’t smile, there was something in her gaze that said, I know you felt it too.

And Mark did.

He nodded once. Subtle. But enough.

The night had grown deep and quiet, the warmth from dinner and laughter lingering like the smell of cinnamon and roasted herbs still clinging to the air. One by one, the evening began to wind down. Gale, cheeks flushed and swaying slightly, had clearly had more than his share of wine.

“Why doesn't wine taste like grapes if it’s made of grapes but it doesn’t taste like juice?” Gale muttered as he fumbled with his coat at the door.

Marvin pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly used to this, and helped steady his husband. “Okay, Shakespeare, time for your chariot.”

Ronnie walked them out, smiling as Marvin kissed her cheek and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Happy Thanksgiving, sweetheart,” he murmured.

“Thanks for coming,” she said, eyes soft as she watched him lead Gale—who was now singing what could only be described as a jazz remix of the Elementals theme song—out to the car.

Mark stood near the door, his hands in his pockets, his dark sweater catching the glow of the warm porch light. Theo ran up before he left, wrapping his arms tightly around Mark's middle in what he proudly called a "dinosaur hug"—complete with growling sound effects.

Mark chuckled, hugging the boy back tightly. “Whoa—T-Rex strength. You trying to break my ribs?”

Theo grinned, then darted back to the couch, already mesmerized by a cartoon featuring prehistoric creatures explaining herbivores versus carnivores with catchy songs and bright visuals.

Mark turned back toward Ronnie, his smile a little more subdued now, but still genuine. “Thank you… for tonight. This was the most fun I’ve had in a really long time.”

Ronnie looked up at him, fingers pulling at the edge of her sleeve as she offered a small, slightly awkward but honest smile. “I’m glad you came.”

He looked down at her, the moment thick with something unspoken—something still brewing between them.

Mark’s gaze lingered on her mouth for a fraction of a second too long, and she saw it. She felt the flutter in her chest—the ache of it—but Theo was right there in the background, just within view.

And Mark… he didn’t want to push his luck. Not here. Not now.

Ronnie sensed the hesitation in him, and for once, she bridged the gap.

She rose up slightly onto her toes and placed a soft, gentle kiss on his cheek. It was brief, but it lingered. Warm. Sweet. Intentional.

She stepped back slowly and whispered, “I’ll see you tomorrow… at work.”

Mark’s breath caught. He blinked, and then nodded slowly. “Yeah… yeah, okay.”

Ronnie opened the door for him, and the cold night air swept in for just a moment—crisp and quiet.

Mark gave her one last glance before stepping out onto the porch. He hesitated for a heartbeat, then walked down the steps, bouquet still cradled in his memory, warmth blooming behind his ribs.

Inside, Ronnie closed the door gently behind him, leaning her back against it for a moment. Her fingers found the edge of her sleeve again, tugging thoughtfully as she looked toward the living room, where Theo laughed at something the cartoon dinosaur had said.

Her heart was racing—and for once, it wasn’t from fear.

It was from hope.