Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“Definitely. Carl always made sure I was careful,” I say, walking past him on my way inside. He smells nice. He looks nice. He is polite. If it wasn’t for the fact that he’s clearly trying to get with me for the wrong reasons, I might just be interested in him. But while I'm technically single, my heart doesn’t feel that way, and as I step into the warmth of the smoking room, the longing for Nico’s arms around me feels like a lead blanket.
There hasn’t been a day, or even an hour when I didn’t randomly start thinking about him, and instead of relief, all I feel is an ever-growing emptiness, as if he’s left his knife inside me, and the wound refuses to close. There was such an endless void in his eyes when he told me he understood my choice, as if he wanted to say he was unlovable, when that’s so far from the truth.
I can’t run from my true feelings any longer.
Chapter 26
Nico
This has got to be the saddest Christmas Eve I’ve ever experienced. Even worse than the first one after my grandpa’s death. I have to fake my smiles for the customers rushing around the Winter Emporium, but at least work keeps me busy and not mulling over what I could have done differently to gain Blake’s love.
The disappointing reality is that there’s probably nothing that would have saved our relationship. It was doomed from the moment I took off my mask and revealed myself to him for what I am. Blake could have found me exciting to fuck, sure, emotionally enticing, maybe. But not someone he’d want to spend his life with. I should have known my dreams of becoming someone special for him were always just a delusion.
I didn’t even feel like treating myself to a Christmas kill this year and instead punished myself with endless hours of work at the shop. It’s something I usually enjoy, but given the circumstances, I know I’m doing it to avoid spending every waking hour worrying about Blake and how he’s coping with the massive change in his life. I wish I could be there to hold his hand through it all, but he doesn’t want me to, so I have to suck it up and move on.
In the last few days, I’ve even been toying with shutting down the whole Christmas Killer operation and locking away that part of me forever. How else will I ever find love? So those are my options, either live a lie with my partner, or stay alone and misunderstood.
The problem is that deep down, I know the itch will come back. I’m already more snappy, and I sulk in my apartment watching Christmas romcoms while entertaining myself by imagining ways in which the main characters could die. How long will I be able to stay away from my secret basement, my weapons, and the need to find a victim?
A hand closes on my shoulder, and Owen looks into my eyes, the pile of orders he brought from the stockroom resting behind the counter.
“Are you okay?” he asks, as if either of us has the time for coddling my feelings when the shop is bursting with Christmas Eve activity. As predicted, all the forgetful husbands who didn’t get their wives presents are either at the jewelry store or here. And that's on top of the usual clientele and those picking up baked goods and other food last minute. All our temps are rushing around, and even Adam, Owen’s boyfriend, is here, helping out so they can both drive off to visit his family as soon as the doors close.
I take a deep breath. “I guess I’m not, but don’t worry about it. It’s gonna pass. I just wish things would have worked out with Blake.” I can’t afford to be falling apart in the middle of the shop. I have to pull myself together, because no matter how much I love Christmas, right now the cheerful songs and bright colors remind me of everything I can’t have.
Owen hesitates. "Are you sure you don’t want to visit Adam’s family with us? I kinda talked to them ab—”
I shake my head and force myself to smile. “I appreciate that, really, but I’d rather get some rest at home. It’s been a… challenging month.”
My dark side, the one excited about cutting someone’s head off, spills in my heart like a drop of the blackest ink, making me ponder the option of abducting Blake. He will most likely be alone tomorrow, I know where he lives, and I could talk my way into his proximity. Just imagining his unconscious weight in my arms gives me a shiver of pleasure, but none of that would satisfy my true cravings. Even if I kept him in my basement for the rest of our days, I can’t make him love me. If anything, his presence would be torturous for me, and he’d grow to resent me, causing both of us pain.