Page 54 of To Obsess

I wince, bracing for the full impact of her rage. Abby has always had a temper, but her control slips when she’s afraid. “I found it this evening when I woke up.” I don’t bother to mention that I found it when I woke up on the back porch, lying in front of me.

“This is getting out of control. You know that, right? This guy is fucking deranged, Vi.” Her chest heaves with the words and her restraint. She closes her eyes, pulling in two deep breaths. It does little to calm her, but the rage that was simmering in her eyes has cooled a degree.

I nod hesitantly. I do know things have gone too far, but how do I explain that I’m not exactly afraid of him? Do I think he has an unhealthy obsession? Of course. But do I think he would hurt me? I honestly don’t.

We’ll ignore the fact that I don’t hate it. I’m well aware that I should be a lot more concerned than I am, but I can’t help but feel a little bit special. I’m positive that’s some sort of childhood trauma, but that’s something to dive into later with a therapist, not with Abby.

Abby sighs through her nose, clearly unhappy with my lack of verbal response. “Damn it, Vi. I just want you to be safe. This guy is a lunatic.”

I shrug, going for nonchalant. “Maybe prodding him on the podcast wasn’t the best idea I ever had. I just want to know who he is, though. He’s been writing for years. I think, at some point, I deserve to know who’s been writing to me for so long.”

She doesn’t bother to respond, knowing it would be pointless. She won’t be able to change my mind on this. “No more taunting him, okay? Write back to his letters if you want, but no more trying to pull him from the darkness. He’s getting too brave, and I’m not about to lose my best friend to some freak with a weird obsession. Got it?”

“Got it,” I agree with a nod. “He’s a super talented artist, though.” My gaze returns to the painting as butterflies flutter around my stomach.

Abby slips into the driver’s seat and down the driveway a short time later, promising to come over tomorrow to work on another episode of the podcast and tell me all about the date from this morning.

I shower, slip into comfortable work clothes, and lock up the house an hour later. I wasn’t planning on working at the bookstore today, but I need something to focus on aside from tonight’s meeting. No better distraction than being surrounded by thousands of books and the people who love them as much as I do.

Chapter 48

KILLIAN

By 9:30 p.m., I’m regretting every decision I have ever made that might have possibly led up to this moment.

I asked Violet to meet me at 11 in the one place I’ve held sacred for the past few years. After tonight, assuming she shows up, I’ll no longer have that place entirely to myself. I won’t be able to watch her from there, check in on her, or spend time reflecting on the past amongst the trees while still being close to her.

A deep sense of loss sinks to the bottom of my stomach, souring the evening further. I never expected this to go on forever, but I’ve also never thought about how it might all end or when that might happen.

The ache grows as I park my car two blocks over and stuff the last of my things into the backpack I brought along. It’s full of memories, things I’ve been collecting over the years since moving here and meeting Violet—things I want to share with her now.

I slowly walk the distance to my favorite tree, placing the backpack at the base. Scanning the surrounding forest, I do my best to take it all in and commit it to memory. If this is going to be the last time I ever get to be here, I don’t want to forget a single thing. I want to remember the smells, the sounds, the way the evening light filters through the canopy and down to the undergrowth. The way the centipedes crawl over the fallen limbs, not a care in the world about anything going on around them. The croak of the bullfrogs in the stream nearby, calling out their song unbothered by all the things that plague people day in and day out.

Easing myself to the forest floor with a groan, I smooth out the blanket I brought along. I lay the backpack in front of me, undo the zipper, but pause as my fingers open the fabric.

Thoughts of all the ways this could go wrong flit through my head unbidden. My chest tightens, breath catching in my lungs. I withdraw my fingers, dropping my hands into my lap with a dejected huff.

Either way, this will all be over soon.

Violet

Shortly after Abby left, I poured myself a glass of wine and turned on a playlist of alternative bands to fit the mood while I tidied up the house to keep my mind busy. There were still four or so hours until I had to fully commit one way or the other to tonight. Until then, my only plan was to keep myself distracted and let things happen as they were destined to.

Eventually, I ran out of things to dust and straighten, leaving me with two options: read or edit an episode of the podcast for the upcoming release. Knowing I wouldn’t have been able to concentrate on editing with my mind spinning, I opted to read a dark stalker romance I’d been putting off for way too long. In retrospect, leaning into my delusion might not have been the best choice, but you live and you learn, I guess.

All of that led up to my current position, staring out the kitchen window toward the tree line, eyes fully unfocused. For the first time in weeks, my mind is quiet, no longer spiraling on things that are outside of my control. For once, I’m getting a choice.

Granted, it doesn’t feel like much of a choice. I either meet him at the tree line tonight, find out the answers to all the questions I’ve been asking for two decades, or I stay here where I’m relatively safe and keep the questions unanswered.

Each minute seems to simultaneously crawl and fly by until the blocky numbers on the stove read 10:42. My heart skips a beat. Eighteen minutes. In eighteen short minutes, everything I’ve known my life to be is going to change. It will effectively be split into before and after.

Of course, that’s assuming he actually shows up. This might all be some bullshit attempt to lure me out into the woods just for him to not hold up his end of the deal. I can imagine the first letter in my mailbox after my embarrassing foray into the unknown. What a loser, it might read. Can’t believe you fell for that, would be another viable option. Either way, it’s not going to be on me if this doesn’t work out how I’m hoping.

When the clock reads 10:52, I slip my shoes on, concentrating on each breath in a futile attempt to slow my heartrate. It’s pounding hard enough to make me slightly dizzy when combined with the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

I scribble a quick note for Abby on the back of a paper towel, just in case something goes horribly wrong or I’m not here in the morning for the new episode. My fingers are wrapped around the doorknob before I glance back, changing my mind. It’s just the nerves getting the better of me. That’s all.

The crumbled paper towel is tossed in the trash can before I have time to overthink it, and I’m standing on the back porch by 10:57. Three minutes.