The Object of His Obsession (The Alexanders Book 4) (5 page)

“Quite frankly, I don’t
care what you think, Alexa. I’m telling you what I’ve been
thinking. You said you were here to listen to
my
thoughts and concerns, correct, or
did I misunderstand you?”

Dr. Nash wanted to
explode. Who gave him permission to call her by her first name? She
had good mind to kick Dilvan out of her office since he was being
rude, but she held it together. Besides, she was accustomed to
dealing with all types of personalities in her profession. Even
though some tested her kindness, mistaking it for weakness more
than others, she still made it a practice to keep her cool no
matter what. Plus, she tried to keep to the forefront of her mind
that he needed help. Who would help this man if she didn’t? “You’re
exactly right, Dilvan. That is what I said. Please
continue.”

“So I think it’s best if I
confront her with it in private and then demand a paternity test
when the baby comes.”

“And how are you planning
on meeting her in private?”

He shrugged. “I’ll call
her, text her...I’ll come up with something that’ll make her want
to meet me.” He thought for a moment and said, “Got it. I’ll buy
some gifts for the baby and tell her to meet me so she can pick
them up. Then I’ll tell her about the baby.”

Dr. Nash shook her head.
“That’s not a good idea, Dilvan.”

Dilvan uncrossed his legs
and scooted to the edge of the couch like he was going to stand,
but he didn’t. He just sat there. “Again, I don’t care what you
think. I’m telling you what I’m going to do.”

“And I’m telling you that
your behavior is selfish and you’re being irrational.”

“I’m not being irrational,
doc, and how is getting to know my son being selfish?”

“Because he’s not your son.
You’re dillusional.”

“Well, I think he is. I can
feel it, and instead of calling me selfish, you should be
nominating me for father of the year or something.”

Dr. Nash took a breath.
“Okay...let’s take it back for a moment. Last week, I asked you if
you were in love with Gabrielle or obsessed with her. You answered
with
both
.”

He frowned and shook his
head. “No I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

“No. I’m not obsessed with
her. I said I was in love with her. She’s my soulmate. She saved my
father’s life.”

“She saved your father’s
life?”

“Yes. Why are you looking
like you’re surprised? Like this is your first time hearing this? I
told you this during our first session.”

“I don’t recall you telling
me anything of the sort, Dilvan.”

“Well, I did, and to answer
your question
again
, I’m not obsessed with Gabrielle. I love her. After what she
did for my father, how could I not love her? She’s...gosh I can’t
even find words to describe how much she means to me and I’m glad
she’s carrying my baby.”

The more he talked, the
more frustrated Dr. Nash became. “Please, tell me your thought
process which led you to the conclusion that you want to tell
Gabrielle you drugged her and that you may be the father of her
baby?”

“I didn’t drug her!” he
roared, veins bulging in his neck and at his temples. He stood up
to emphasize his point. “I…we…we love each other.”

“Okay, Dilvan, I need you
to calm down a bit,” Dr. Nash said. For the first time since
meeting him, she felt threatened, but still, she stuck to her
guns.

“I am calm!” Dilvan told
her with a predominant frown plastered in his forehead.

“No, you’re not. You’re
behaving like a loose cannon and I think you need some medication
to help calm you down a little, Dilvan.”

In a fit of rage, Dilvan
picked up a vase filled with fresh flowers and flung it across the
room. It crashed against the wall – flowers, shattered glass and
water crashing down to the floor all at once. “I don’t need pills,
and I surely don’t need you telling me that I do. Have a nice life,
doc.”

“Dilvan...” Dr. Nash said,
calling out to him, but he’d already opened the door and passed
through it.

And then came the loud
slam that made people in the hallway of the corporate office
building look at him.

Dilvan could care less. He
had a plan and he would stick to it no matter what Dr. Nash or
anybody else had to say. He jumped in the driver seat of his silver
Maserati and sped off like he was doing laps at the Charlotte Motor
Speedway. He had no fear, no concern for the law or anything a
measly doctor had to say. He would do whatever he wanted and
whoever had a problem with it, well, that was their problem. Not
his.

Chapter 7

Beatrice was busy in the
kitchen cooking when she head Dilvan come in the front
door.

“Dinner will be ready in
about fifteen minutes, Dilvan,” she shouted from the kitchen loud
enough for him to hear her.

Dilvan sauntered to the
kitchen with his hands in his pockets and said, “Thanks, Beatrice.
I’m going to run upstairs and change clothes.”

“Yeah...you have to get
good and comfortable for a meal like this.”

Dilvan shot her a half
smile then walked away. He jogged upstairs to his bedroom, hearing
his cell phone beep shortly thereafter. It was his
mother.

He sighed. What did she
want? This was the second time she’d called today, so it must’ve
been important. Well important for her at least.

“Hello, Mother,” he
answered in a banausic tone.

“Hi, son. How are
you?”

“Well as can be. I trust
you are the same.”

“I am. Listen...I need to
speak with you.”

He smirked. “We’re doing
that now. Are we not, Mother?”

“In person, Dilvan.
Face-to-face.”

“Why can’t we talk about
whatever it is you want to discuss right now?”

“Because this is not
something to discuss over the phone.”

Dilvan sighed and loosened
his necktie. “So when do you want to meet?”

“Well, we’re busy planning
Gabrielle’s baby shower this weekend, so—”

“Yeah. Thanks for rubbing
that in my face.”

“Dilvan, I’m not rubbing
anything in your face. I simply mentioned—”

“I don’t care, okay!” he
snapped. “Now when do you want to meet before I hang up this
phone?”

Tears formed in Padma’s
eyes. What had she done to Dilvan for him to turn out this way? She
inhaled a deep breath and said, “Sunday evening. Will that
work?”

“As long as it works for
you, Mother,” he said acrimoniously.

“Alright. I’ll stop by
around six.”

“Yeah. Six.” He hung up the
phone and finished changing out of his suit.

* * *

At dinner, Dilvan and
Beatrice sat at the massive twelve-chair dinette that took up the
greater portion of his dining room. An exquisite chandelier hung
from the ceiling, centered with the table, but still the room felt
dark. Gloomy. Empty. Cold.

Dilvan forced himself to
eat. He hadn’t had much of an appetite these days and as he raked
around rice and curried chicken, shrimp and veggies in his plate,
he thought about the therapy session with Dr. Nash. During therapy,
all he could talk about was the baby. Gabrielle’s baby.

Dr. Nash strongly advised
him against doing such, calling his behavior selfish and
irrational, adjectives that didn’t sit well with him. He stayed
even after that, though, still telling her of his plan, but then
she called him a loose cannon...said he needed some pills to calm
himself down and Dilvan had heard enough. He picked up a vase from
the table and threw it across the room. Since she’d called him a
loose cannon, he figured he’d behave like one.

Beatrice observed Dilvan
as he sat still, seemingly daydreaming and in a trance. She knew he
was going through it. In some way, everyone was fighting a battle.
Some battles turned into wars. Others, reverted into small,
resolvable conflicts. Dilvan’s battle, however, seemed to have been
getting the best of him. That was too bad, because Beatrice had
seen changes in him, seen his struggle to improve his life, his
behavior and treatment of others, but when it came to Gabrielle, he
couldn’t let go.

“Dilvan, are you okay?” she
finally decided to ask.

He met her gaze. “I’m
good, Beatrice.” He took a sip of water. “I take it you’ve received
an invite to the baby shower,” he decided to ask.

“Yes, I have.”

“Are you going?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the
world. I’m happy for Gabrielle and Tyson.”

Dilvan grimaced.
Gabrielle and Tyson
. He
didn’t like the sound of their name together as much as he didn’t
like Tyson. He was seriously considering crashing the baby shower
and announcing to all the guests present that Gabrielle was
carrying his baby instead of Tyson’s. That was sure to ruffle
Tyson’s feathers and throw a wrench in their seemingly perfect
marriage. If he could plant some doubt in Tyson’s mind, then maybe
that would open up the door for him to get back with Gabrielle. The
thought of it made an evil smile touch his lips.

“I bought the baby the
cutest lil’ outfit,” Beatrice said.

Dilvan hadn’t heard a word
Beatrice had said. Dilvan’s evil thoughts had him envisioning Tyson
and Gabrielle sitting in front of their friends and family, opening
gifts, looking like the perfect, happy couple.

“Your mind is gone,
Dilvan.”

He flashed a fake smile
and laughed. “Beatrice, I have so much on my mind these days...it’s
a wonder my head doesn’t explode.”

“Life gets us like that
sometimes, now don’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am. Sometimes,
though, I think it’s much more than I can handle.”

“You can handle it. You
just have to stop causing unnecessary burdens for yourself,
Dilvan.”

“Meaning?”

Beatrice took out a white
handkerchief and dabbed her forehead. “Now, Dilvan, I know you been
working hard to become a better person. Even if no one else knows
it, I know. But guess what I also know?”

“What’s that,
Beatrice?”

“I know that you’re still
infatuated with Gabrielle.”

Dilvan frowned, then as
fast as he’d frowned, he replaced it with a wide smile. “I’m not
infatuated with her. Why would you think that? It’s not like I talk
about Gabrielle with you.”

“You don’t have to.
Remember when you threw that party over here...the same party where
Tyson announced that he and Gabrielle were expecting?”

“Yeah. How can I forget
that?”

“Well, while everyone was
looking at them, I was looking at you. You had the weirdest look on
your face...like you knew it was over for good...you knew you had
no chance of getting her back. You knew the baby would hold them
together forever and you’d never get the opportunity to get
Gabrielle back.”

Dilvan erupted in
laughter. “That’s not the look I had at all.”

“It was. I saw it,
Dilvan.”

“Then you saw wrong,
Beatrice.”

“So are you telling me you
won’t jealous of them at all?”

“Yep. That’s what I’m
telling you. The look I had on my face was one of
intrigue.”

“How so?”

“Well, while you guys were
celebrating, I was wondering if the baby was really
Tyson’s.

Beatrice frowned. “I beg
your pardon?”

“I said I was wondering if
the baby is Tyson’s, especially since there is a possibility that
it could be mine.”

Beatrice’s frown
intensified. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying? That you
and Gabrielle—”

A wicked smile touched his
lips. “How else could she be pregnant with my baby if we didn’t
sleep together?”

Chapter 8

Padma emerged from her car
in tears. She walked up to the front door of her house and once she
entered, she headed straight for the bedroom, sobbing. Dilvan was
in trouble. He needed help. She knew that and accepted it now. If
only she had accepted it before.

When Dilvan was sixteen,
he was getting in all kinds of fights in high school. It seemed
every week, he was involved in an altercation of some sort. The
school guidance counselor had recommended to Padma that Dilvan see
a doctor, but Padma refused. There was nothing wrong with her son,
she had told the counselor. As the old saying went...boys will be
boys and if she couldn’t pin his behavior on that adage, she easily
found someone else to blame. There was always a reason why Dilvan
had reacted the way he did and no one could fully hold him
accountable for anything.

The truth that she tried
her hardest to avoid was that Dilvan had a problem, a condition, a
disorder, the same disorder that she had – bipolar
disorder.

She was in her twenties
when she’d been diagnosed with the condition. But thanks to early
detection, she was able to get medication for it – medication that
she took daily. Medicine that stabilized her enough so that she
could still live a happy, fulfilling life. She never told anyone
she had it. Her husband didn’t even know she was bipolar. She’d
been hiding it from him, ashamed of what he would think of her. The
last thing she wanted was to be labeled as crazy. That’s precisely
how everyone was viewing Dilvan right about now. Crazy.