Obsession

Matthew new he wasn't going to get the relationship he'd fantasized about with Jacks. He’d been bidding his time to tell her he'd been watching and falling in love with her over the years. University was just the beginning. He followed her career after graduation. When Richard wanted someone special to handle the marketing campaign for their new highly sensitive companion project, he knew just the right person for the job.

Hiring a head hunter to specifically reach out to her and groom her for the job of a life time. Extending a job offer too good to pass up. All this effort to bring her closer. All to better his chances to wiggle into her life. He knew she was married when she first started at the company. He also knew she'd recently lost a child and secretly hoped it put a strain on the marriage.

Why is she not flattered by the extent I've gone through for her? Studying her to the point I knew intimate details that made the companion so believable, so real. Yet, she just looks at me with nothing but disgust and contempt. She doesn't understand. She doesn't know the depths I'm willing to go for her.

Steven would understand. He has that kind of intensity with Sam. The way he looks at her and wants to protect her, it's no different than how I feel for Jacks.

Matthew reached his front door, unlocking the bottom deadbolt that can only be accessed from the outside. Once entering his apartment he turned around and did up the top deadbolt that can only be accessed with a key from the inside. "Safety first," he chimed out loud as if suffering from OCD. If he doesn't say it, it won't really be locked.

"Welcome home, Darling," came the soft tender voice behind him. Turning around Matthew half smiled, leaned forward and kissed the greeters cheek.

"Hey, Babe," Matthew exhaled. "What's for dinner?"

"I made your favorite, roast and potatoes just like your Grans used to make." She stepped back and let him pass, following him to the sideboard as he deposited his keys.

"Thanks, but I think I'm going to grab a bowl of cereal and watch the news."

She stopped following him as he entered the kitchen. Rummaging around for a bowl and spoon it wasn't until he'd poured the milk that he noticed she wasn't in the room with him.

"Are you mad at me now?" yelling from the kitchen.

Stepping into the doorway, leaning against the pale meringue yellow recently painted door jam. "Should I be?"

"You know I hate it when you answer a question with a question. Are you mad or not?" Returning the milk to it’s reserved spot in the fridge he slammed the door and turned back to his bobbing sugared grains.

"Roast and potatoes isn't a quick meal to prepare, especially the way you insist I make it and now you're eating Apple Jacks. I could've saved myself hours if you would've let me know what mood to expect." She turned and left.

He yelled with a bite. "I've had a rough day." Stepping from behind the island to follow her.

Stopping abruptly she spun around, "I'm sorry you had a rough day. Try being cooped up in this apartment day after day with nothing to do. You want cereal, I want to go out."

"Jacks, I told you why we can't go out." Rubbing her arms, he looked up into her face. Sliding his hand under her chin to lift her gaze to his. "You know why we can't."