On the tree, I spy a few ornaments that Sophie’s family must have bought us. There’s one featuring a picture of Sophie and me. Someone must have taken it with their phone.
Where’s Sophie?
My eyes slide down to all the presents her family brought up. She probably freaked out when she saw those, considering they’re filled with my victim's body parts. Shit.
“Sophie,” I call out, moving into the kitchen. There’s a note on the counter with my name on it. The ache in my chest grows.
Yesterday, she said that even if she loved me that…fuck. That it wouldn’t work out. I just kept telling her she was wrong. I should have listened to her instead of blindly thinking everything was going to be fine.
I grab the letter and open it up.
“I had to leave.”
I close it back up. So this is how it is.
It feels very important that I get rid of the body parts under the tree, but I can’t seem to motivate myself right now. I shove the letter in my pocket. I don’t want her family to see it.
I sink into the bar stool and look out the kitchen windows to the slopes. They’re not open for the day yet. It’s gray outside, awful weather. The snow has gone from festive to cruel, viciously blowing sideways.
I’ve been in this position before. It’s not a nice feeling. They all figure out there’s something missing inside me. Sophie found it fascinating… but only academically. My fingers brush the letter in my pocket. Hoping for more from her was a mistake.
The house is stifling. The heater makes the air suffocating. This big house is a mockery. I can’t have what I want because I’m not like everyone else. I don’t want to be alone, but unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do about that.
The one person I thought had accepted me, liked me, couldn’t in the end. I was fascinating from a distance, not something to accept into her bed and heart.
Idiotically, I wait. Maybe Sophie didn’t mean what I think. I’m in a bad mood this morning. Maybe I’ve jumped to conclusions. Maybe Sophie is at the store.
“I had to leave.”
It’s so vague that I cling to hope. Her family gets up and asks where she is. I smile and say she’s at the store getting presents. Wouldn’t that be nice? They brew coffee. And I keep waiting and waiting.
She’s not coming back.
I go back to my room, close the door, and lie in bed. Hours go by. Her family asks me to go with them to a buffet for Christmas Eve lunch. It’s probably the last chance I’ll get to pretend I’m part of a family. But I can’t act like a normal person right now. My personality is stripped bare; only the cold ache remains. I’m not good to be around right now. The missing parts of me are too present.
Once they're gone, I get the undeniable urge to kill. It’s the only thing that’s made me feel better over the past year. It also helped me finally accept who I am, instead of hiding it. Shoving it down had felt like a cage. If I had never murdered, I’d still be miserable and in denial.
If I give up my gory hobby, I’ll have nothing.
But I’d rather have nothing than lose Sophie. The realization startles me. I sit up in bed. Defeat isn’t what I’m currently feeling. No, not at all. I accepted my ex wanting me gone, but I can’t accept Sophie leaving. I won’t let her walk away so easily.
I’ll give it all up, everything, if I have to. Whatever she wants me to do, I’ll do it. No killing, no fucking, whatever. I don’t care.
I want her more than I want peace of mind or the undeniable pleasure of killing an asshole. She’s my person. Ineedher.
And she’ll accept me once I agree to do what needs to be done. What she keeps desperately trying to keep me from doing. Soren Erikson is going to retire from serial killing so he can live happily ever after with his therapist.
The sudden desperate need to find her is panic-inducing. For a man who never panics, it’s disturbing. It feels like I’m dying. My chest hurts, and my stomach feels sick. Useless thoughts keep running in my head. Worrying that I waited too long to make this choice. That I might have lost my chance.
“Fuck me,” I gasp as I grab at my chest. If I wasn’t a paramedic, I’d think I was having a heart attack.
I grab my phone and video call her without hesitation. I can’t go another second without her. To my surprise, she picks up right away. Her beautiful face fills the screen. Her button nose is a little red. I adore her.
“Soren—”
“I need to tell you something,” I blurt. “I’m quitting. I won’t kill anymore. I promise. And I won’t fuck you anymore either if you don’t like it. We can go back to how it was before. Except, of course, I’ll be desperately in love with you.” I chuckle anxiously. I’m a goddamn mess.
“Soren,” she says.
