Epilogue （Obsession He Craves）
Alexander
I watch the images on my light screen. For how long can a person’s mistake haunt him, reminding him that he fucked up once? Ask me.
It’s been almost nine years since she ran away during childbirth. I didn’t bother spending much time finding her, because Abigail had always had a soft spot for that child. She wanted to give her a chance, for the baby’s sake.
And what does she do with that chance? She hires some local goons and tries to attack my daughter. My four-year-old princess.
Only this time, I didn’t give her any more chances. And now she’s exactly where she should’ve gone a long time ago.
She’d been running a brothel in Vegas, and her nine-year-old son was living a life no child deserves.
My men found him locked in a basement of that brothel.
There are images of that basement. A thin mattress on the floor.
The boy curled up in its corner. You can see his bones through his skin.
There are bruises all over his face and hands. He doesn’t even look like he’s nine.
Abigail’s voice breaks through, followed by the hurried sound of her footsteps. “Oh my God… what is this?”
I look at her. “Ekaterina’s son.”
She covers her mouth, her eyes instantly turning red. I pull her into a hug. She murmurs through sniffles, “Why is he in such a bad condition?”
I rub her back. “How could you ever think she’d be a good mother?”
She pulls away and looks into my eyes. “Where is he?”
I wipe her tears with my thumb. “He’s in the hospital. They found him malnourished, and there are signs of severe trauma.”
She clutches my shirt. “I want to meet him.”
I nod. “We’ll go today.”
Zloban is admitted to our private hospital. I had come here earlier to meet him.
Abigail opens the door to his ward carefully. He looks at her warily from the bed, where he’s sitting and watching something on the TV. She walks inside, holding a box of food she prepared after doing a full six-hour research session on what to make for a malnourished child.
I ask him, “Can we turn off the TV?”
He nods.
Abigail walks to him and sits on the edge of the bed. He watches her with guarded eyes, sometimes flicking glances toward me. She gives him a small, warm smile.
“Hello, Zloban. I’m Abigail.”
He doesn’t say anything, just keeps watching her.
She opens the box and looks at him again, smiling. “I made this for you.”
He looks at the food, then back at her. She holds the box out to him. He takes it reluctantly, his gaze shifting between her and me.
He takes a bite of the banana oatmeal pudding and looks up at her.
She asks softly, “Do you like it?”
He nods and takes another bite. Her face lights up with happiness, but then it falters. She lowers her gaze.
“I’m sorry.”
Zloban watches her. She looks back at him, her eyes now glassy with tears. I place a hand on her shoulder.
Her voice breaks. “If I hadn’t refused Alexander when he wanted to keep searching for her, and said she deserved a chance, you wouldn’t be in this condition.” She sobs, “I’m so sorry, dear.”
Zloban keeps watching her silently. He hasn’t spoken a single word. The psychologists working on his treatment say it’s trauma-induced silence.
Later, on the drive back home, she keeps crying. No matter how many times I tell her it’s not her fault, the guilt in her heart won’t lessen. And I don’t blame her. Some things don’t stop hurting just because we know they aren’t our fault.
After reaching home, I make her sit on the couch, wiping her tears once again. I crouch down in front of her and take her face in my hands.
“I’ll provide everything needed to minimize the damage of his past, baby. Please, stop crying.”
She sniffles. “Can we adopt him?”
I sigh. “Okay, we will… but only if you promise to never cry about this again.”
Her crying stops immediately. I smile and sit beside her, pulling her into a hug.
“I have mixed feelings about it,” I admit.
She pulls back and looks at me. “Why?”
“That child is damaged, Abigail. We don’t know how that trauma might affect Avi.”
Her voice drops into something soft but resolute. “We’ll give him a good family. He’ll be fine.”
Just then, our little pumpkin’s voice chirps from the hallway. “Mama! Daddy!”
She comes running toward us, giggling. I lift her into my arms, sit her on my lap, and kiss her chubby cheek. Abigail cups the girl’s other cheek gently.
“Baby,” she says softly, “we want to bring a big brother for you.”
Our daughter looks up at me. I nod, offering her a small smile. Her big eyes well up with tears. She shakes her head.
“No, Mama. I don’t want a big brother.”
I press her tiny head against my chest, patting her cheek. “Okay, baby. If you don’t want, we won’t bring him.”
Abigail shoots me an unhappy look.
I’m helpless. I can’t stand seeing either of them cry. My little pumpkin or my little muse. So I decide something very simple: When these two are on opposite ends, I’m staying out of it.
Abigail asks her softly, “Why don’t you want a big brother, baby?”
She lowers her voice to a tiny whisper, “Because… you won’t love me.”
I chuckle. Abigail smiles. “Nooo, we’ll love you just the same. Don’t uncle and aunt love Wen even though she has a big brother?”
Avi nods hesitantly. Abigail continues coaxing her, “And you’ll have a big brother too, someone to love you and carry you on his back, like Leo carries Wen.”
Avi’s brows knit. “But Leo doesn’t let Wen eat chocolates.”
Abigail sigh, “Because Wen is allergic to nuts, sweetheart.”
She leans in closer, gently cupping Avi’s cheeks. “Okay, you tell me. You have Mama and Daddy to hug and kiss you every day, right?”
Avi nods again. Abigail’s expression softens, sadness creeping into her eyes. “But he… he has no one.”
Avi’s tiny face mirrors her mother’s emotions. “He doesn’t have anyone to tell him bedtime stories?”
Abigail shakes her head slowly. Avi turns to look at me. I nod.
She looks back at Abigail. “Mama… he also doesn’t have anyone to hug him when he gets fever?”
Abigail’s voice breaks a little. “No, baby, no one. And he doesn’t have anyone to cook food for him?”
My little angel’s face drops. Her shoulders slump.
Then she lifts her head with resolve. “We should bring him to our house, Mama.”
Abigail leans in and kisses her cheek. Avi grins brightly, showing her missing tooth.
“I’ll take care of him. I’ll love him a lot.”
Abigail nods, her eyes shining. “Yes, baby. I know you will.”