The Twisted Obsession-Chapter 320: Public Fight

Abby stood outside the hospital’s front entrance, the fresh air hitting her face for the first time in days. She should have felt relief—relief to be out of that sterile place, away from the constant beeping of monitors, away from the nurses’ concerned stares. But instead, there was only an overwhelming sense of dread. The world felt too large, too loud, too suffocating.

Remo stood next to her, his hand resting gently on the small of her back, guiding her toward the car. But his touch, which once brought her comfort, now only fueled her anxiety. His closeness, his concern—it all felt like a mask, something fake. The whispers in her mind had become louder, more insistent. He’s hiding something. He knows. He’s watching you.

"Are you okay?" Remo’s voice cut through her thoughts, his eyes filled with concern as he glanced down at her.

She forced a smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. "I’m fine, just... glad to be out of there."

But she wasn’t fine. The tension between them had grown thicker over the past few days, and despite Remo’s constant reassurances, Abby couldn’t shake the feeling that he was keeping something from her. Or worse, that he was beginning to suspect what she was really capable of.

They walked toward the car, but Abby’s eyes darted nervously to the people around them. Reporters lingered near the entrance, their cameras trained on her, on them. It wasn’t uncommon for the media to swarm around Remo and Abby—after all, they were one of the city’s most high-profile couples. But today, their presence felt different. More invasive. More dangerous.

"They’re watching us," Abby whispered, her voice tight with paranoia as she glanced at the reporters.

"They’re always watching," Remo replied calmly, though the edge in his voice was unmistakable. "Ignore them. Let’s get you home."

Abby’s eyes flickered toward the reporters, her heart racing. She couldn’t ignore them. She couldn’t ignore the way their cameras seemed to focus on her, the way they whispered to one another as they took their pictures. They know. They’re here to see you fall apart.

She stopped in her tracks, pulling away from Remo’s guiding hand. "Why are they here?" she asked, her voice rising. "Why now?"

Remo frowned, his brow furrowing with confusion. "They’re always here, Abby. You know that."

"No," Abby snapped, her voice louder now, catching the attention of the reporters. "This is different. They’re waiting for something. They’re waiting for me to mess up."

"Abby, calm down," Remo said quietly, his eyes flickering nervously toward the reporters as they began to click their cameras faster, eager to capture whatever was unfolding between them. "Let’s not do this here."

But Abby couldn’t stop. Her mind was spiraling, the whispers growing louder, more frantic. He’s trying to control you. He’s trying to shut you up. He doesn’t want you to know the truth.

"You’re hiding something," she accused, her eyes narrowing as she stared at Remo. "You’ve been hiding something ever since that night."

"Abby, this isn’t the time or place," Remo warned, his voice low and tense.

But Abby was beyond reason now. She could feel the tension inside her building, threatening to explode. "Why won’t you tell me the truth?" she demanded, her voice loud enough that the reporters began to move in closer, their cameras snapping furiously. "What are you hiding from me, Remo? Do you think I don’t see it? Do you think I’m blind?"

"Abby, stop," Remo hissed, stepping toward her, his hand reaching for her arm. "You’re not thinking clearly."

"I’m not thinking clearly?" she scoffed, pulling away from him. "I know exactly what’s happening! You’re keeping something from me, just like everyone else!"

The reporters were close now, their lenses trained on Abby’s face, capturing every expression, every wild look in her eyes as she continued to shout. Remo’s face was tight with frustration, his patience wearing thin. He knew they were giving the press exactly what they wanted—a public spectacle, a crack in the perfect image of their marriage.

"Let’s get in the car," Remo said firmly, his voice laced with tension. "We’ll talk about this at home."

But Abby wasn’t listening. She took a step back, her eyes wide with anger and paranoia. "No! We’ll talk about it now. In front of them," she gestured toward the reporters, her voice filled with venom. "Let them see the truth. Let them see who you really are."

Remo’s expression darkened, his frustration boiling over. "This is insane, Abby. You’re making a scene."

"I’m not the one making a scene," she snapped, her voice trembling with rage. "You’re the one lying to me. You’re the one who’s been keeping secrets. Ever since that night with Nicole, you’ve been distant, hiding things. What are you hiding, Remo?"

The mention of Nicole seemed to light a fire under Remo. His jaw clenched, and for the first time, his frustration turned into anger. "I’m not hiding anything from you," he growled. "You’re the one who’s been acting like this. Ever since that night, you’ve been paranoid, accusing me of things that aren’t true."

The reporters’ cameras flashed, their excitement palpable as the argument unfolded right in front of them. This was the story they had been waiting for—a glimpse into the cracks of the Falcone empire, a high-profile couple at war.

Abby’s eyes flickered with rage, her hands trembling. The whispers were louder than ever, telling her that she was right, that Remo was hiding something, that he had betrayed her. She couldn’t trust him. She couldn’t trust anyone.

"Don’t lie to me!" she screamed, her voice filled with desperation and pain. "I know you’re keeping something from me! I can feel it!"

Remo took a step closer, his voice low and dangerous. "Abby, if you don’t calm down, we’re going to have a serious problem. Get in the car. Now."

But Abby couldn’t stop. She couldn’t pull herself back from the edge she had been teetering on for days. "You don’t get to control me, Remo!" she shouted, her voice echoing across the parking lot. "You don’t get to tell me what to do! I know the truth!"

The reporters were in a frenzy now, capturing every moment of their public meltdown. The flashes of their cameras were blinding, the clicking of their shutters constant.

Remo’s face hardened, his patience completely gone. "Fine," he said coldly. "Let them see. Let them see just how far you’ve fallen."

Abby’s heart twisted painfully at his words, but the whispers drowned out her hurt. She turned on her heel and stormed toward the car, her mind racing with anger, paranoia, and a deep, gnawing sense of betrayal.

As she climbed into the passenger seat, she glanced back at the reporters, who were still snapping pictures, their faces alight with glee at the drama unfolding before them.

They’re watching. They’re waiting for you to fall apart. Just like he is.

Remo climbed into the driver’s seat beside her, slamming the door shut with more force than necessary. The tension in the car was suffocating, but neither of them spoke as they pulled away from the hospital, leaving the flashing cameras and the murmurs of the reporters behind.

But even as they drove away, Abby couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly, terribly wrong.

And that feeling, that sense of impending doom, only grew stronger with each passing mile.

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