No Pho for the Wicked
Miguel holds the door open for me, and a rush of warm, aromatic air envelops us, countering the bitter chill outside. The pho restaurant is cozy, half-full, with soft Vietnamese music filling the gaps in conversation.
Twinkle lights blink with friendly enthusiasm along the burnt orange paint, adding an extra level of warmth against the gray frozen night.
It’s been days since Shadow came and broke me into little pieces, first physically, then emotionally.
The hunger in the pit of my stomach has turned ravenous. I’m dangerous. I want too much. I want wrong, fucked up things.
I couldn’t help but think I did this to myself. I forced myself upon Shadow. My perverseness drove the monster from under my bed to return to his own hell dimension rather than stay with me.
But the man in front of me knows nothing of that kind of darkness. So I have to be careful with him.
Miguel’s brown eyes glow in the ambient light, full of anticipation and excitement. Usually I find that glow infectious, making me feel almost normal, but not tonight.
He’s pretending everything is easygoing, but I can’t. The weight of my life sinks into the marrow of my bones with a desolate darkness. I’m nothing more than a feral creature pretending to be human. A wisp of shadows and nightmares, trying to exist in someone’s dream of a perfect date.
"Wow, it smells amazing in here," Miguel observes, pulling out a chair for me.
"Yeah, it really does," I agree, forcing a smile as I sit down. My eyes catch the way he looks at me, and my heart sinks. He’s so good, so undeserving of the trouble I am.
We order, and while waiting for our pho, Miguel chats about his week, how his classes went, a relative he helped move. Every word makes me feel more disconnected. It’s like watching a movie where I don’t belong, where my character has been mistakenly cast.
The impossibly large, steaming bowls arrive, and we dig in. Miguel is visibly happy, savoring every bite. Even I find the flavorful broth helps settle the gnawing feeling in my stomach.
"Mmmm, this is so good. Have you tried pho before, Evie?" he asks.
"Yeah, a few times," I reply, twirling my fork aimlessly through the translucent rice noodles. It’s actually one of my favorite comfort foods, but I typically stick to the cheap ramen packs at home rather than allow myself the luxury of hot noodles out.
"Yeah, perfect for a cold night like this," he adds.
The conversation stalls, the silence becoming more noticeable, like the empty spaces in the room. They seem to swell and push against my skin with insistence.
Tell him.
Tell him now.
"So... Evie, I was thinking next week we could go to the movies. There’s this one I think you’ll love. It’s a goofy comedy about a heist."
I hesitate, picking at my food, doing my best to form words that are both honest and kind. "Miguel, you’re amazing. You really are. And I... I think you deserve someone equally amazing."
His brows knit as his shoulders slump in defeat. He thought he’d steered the conversation away from danger, but this moment was always inevitable.
Miguel reaches across the table, taking my hands. "I think you’re amazing, Evie."
"But you don’t really know me," I counter softly, looking down at the table. My voice is choked by the weight of my hidden world.
"Evie, everyone has their issues, their fears. That doesn’t mean?—"
I tug my hands from his, folding them in my lap. "I’m not talking about ‘issues,’ Miguel. I’m saying you need a girl to fit your life, who is normal, who has all the love in the world to give you."
The only love I have is for a monster who slinks out from under my bed, and even that, I recognize, could simply be some unhealthy obsession. But the way my heart beats for the beast spells out love and a terrifying devotion I can’t fight.
Miguel is sweet, good, and true. But Shadow is where my darkness lives without shame or regret. To reach Miguel’s light, I’d have to fight against everything I am—and I’m too tired to keep fighting.
The relief, the luxury of being who I am, darkness and all, is something I’m not sure I can live without anymore, because it makes me who I am.
Shadow will never return. He said it himself. But even if I must live with those tainted, fucked up parts of myself, it’s better than living a lie for another.
