“You'll find it. I know you will.”
Carter offers his hand to me and I reach out for it. Seeing the sparkling ring on my finger is a pleasant shock. I made the right choice.
Tonight was just supposed to be recon. I wanted to watch, learn more about her routines. Find out if there will ever be a time the kid won't be there. But shit, it seems like the kid is always with her. You'd think she's his fucking mom. She was alone for a while, which was nice. I watched her slender silhouette through her bedroom window as she changed into a simple dress. I watched her fondly tuck in her brother. She moved to the living room. It's harder to watch her there as the window faces the main street. It's safer in the bushes on the sides and back of the house.
So I wait by her bedroom. She'll be back eventually. Then I'll watch her evening routine. Experience her quiet, simple life. When she's home without her parents, it's easy to imagine myself in the house, eating a home-cooked meal she made for me, watching her undress to join me in bed.
They'll always tease you. No one understands you like I do.
The intrusive thoughts interrupt the fantasy. She'd never want me. I'll have to take her. I'll show her she's no better than me. Just like all the others. They groveled at my feet. They begged. I was their god. They all think they're smarter than me, but they're not. They're just ants in a farm I can squash whenever I feel like reaching in.
An hour or so passes and she's back in the room. But instead of a sweet angel who I can admire putting herself to bed, she's with him. That fucking prince. The guy who has probably never known a true trial since the day he was born. I can only see their outlines with the lights off. I watch, huffing like an angry bull as she mounts him. It's a mix of rage and arousal as it often is. Soon it'll be me, I tell myself. That makes it bearable. My throbbing cock begs for me to relieve myself in the bushes, but I resist. I want to save my nut for her. I want it to be so hard she screams as I puncture her. I refuse to relieve myself until I am inside of her.
They finish. They go about their business. It's the boring, monotonous stuff of living. Getting dressed. Going to the bathroom. The type of stuff I can watch mindlessly for hours if I allow myself. It lulls me into a hypnotic state. It's like watching a moving Norman Rockwell painting, except now everyone's got beards, long hair, and bell bottoms.
The guy turns on a lamp, so I can get a clearer view. I have to be careful, but as long as I stay low and make no sudden moves, they won't know I'm out here. It looks like they're talking about something serious. It's intimate. I've never really known intimacy. Watching it makes me ache, and then it makes me angry. I'd rather be angry than feel longing.
Suddenly, Mr. Perfect gets up. Then he's on his knees. This can't be fucking happening. This cannot be fucking real. The ache burns. It's like being punched in the stomach over and over again. It's like someone reaching in and clenching my heart with a handful of hot, shattered glass.
As I have trained myself to do, I convert the longing into fury. And this time, there is so much of it that I boil into a blind rage. I need to expel this fire building in me. My instinct is to tear the bush in front of me to shreds. I tighten my fists as the lovebirds embrace, trying to contain the wrath that ascends in me like a flash flood.
Patience.
Fuck patience.
They mock me. They taunt me. Their white smiles and flawless faces show me the life I will never have. It's like they know I'm here and want to shove it in my face.
You can't trust them. Did you think you ever had a chance with her?
Fuck plans. I'm going to steal their joy just like they have so harshly snatched mine. He can't have her. I'm going to put my mark on her. I'm going to make Vesper mine. I'm going to be with them when they walk down the aisle. I'll be laced in every memory, every milestone.
I'm going in tonight.
I wait.
And wait.
And wait.
It takes a while for Vesper to finally settle into bed. From what I could tell, she noticed that the necklace was missing. That's rare. Most people don't notice the things I have taken until after I've hit. I can tell what I took is important; it's nice to know the token I have of hers has so much emotional capital. That I'll always have an important part of her to relive what will happen tonight.