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There’s a pause. She could bite. I can feel the potential, the temptation, hovering in the air.

Blake

You can trust me.

She sends a series of twenty laughing emojis and my heart bleeds out like she shot my chest.

BunnytheKiller

What about you? What would you like to do if you had absolute freedom?

Not the response I wanted, but it stems the flow of blood. She hasn’t agreed to meet me, hasn’t even acknowledged my invitation. But she’s done something else that I didn’t know I was missing. Despite her understandable cynicism about my intentions, she’s curious about me.

Every single person in my life has assumed that all I would ever want would be the Norwood mafia. I wasn’t a kid who dreamed of being a fireman when I grew up. By the time I understood the concept, I knew I’d be the mafia boss of Norwood. Go into the “family business”.

I’m a billionaire. It’s assumed I have everything. That I already have all the freedom I could desire.

Except this girl somehow knows that I’m trapped in this job as she is in hers—whatever it is. Because it’s not for-hire killing, and it’s not creative writing. I think that part is true—that she longs to express her artistic side.

If her messages are any indication, she’d be a brilliant author.

I’d buy the books myself to ensure her success.

I realise that instead of thinking about what I’d like to do if I could, I’ve been sitting here with my phone in my hand, wondering how I could make my bunny happy.

It’s an answer neither of us is ready for.

Blake

I don’t think anyone has ever asked me that.

BunnytheKiller

I’m all about providing once-in-a-lifetime experiences for people.

Blake

Death isn’t quite the beautiful unique event that bungee jumping or going on a cruise is.

BunnytheKiller

Is that what you’d like to do, if you could? Go on cruises?

Blake

I’m not that old.

BunnytheKiller

So? What would you do?

Blake

I’ll get back to you.

I think about it for the rest of the day. And all I come up with is that the only thing that makes me feel alive—and has in decades—is her.

I send another picture of a-kitten-has-no-name to Bunny in the morning.