The next few days were hard. Waking up, writing, sleeping, ignoring the incessant calls and texts from her friends... Rylie barely knew what she was doing.

She kept thinking about JJ. She knew how bad he was for her. She knew how toxic he was. She knew he killed people and probably wouldn't hesitate to kill her. Yet she kept remembering  the good old innocent times they'd shared.

*

I stared at my phone. I could just text her again. Ask if she wanted to meet up for another coffee, give me another chance. She'd been clear. They'd be no other chance. So I ate breakfast, staring at the wall. France was beautiful. I'd probably visit Paris all day, looking at the gorgeous buildings and landmarks.

But then my phone buzzed.

Rylie: hi. Can we talk? 8:00. Same place

Suddenly, tears were welling up in my eyes— there was my chance, the chance I was never supposed to have, the chance I was gonna cling to. I was going to make things right, take back the love of my life, show her that who I was— it was all in the past. I am a good man, the best man for her in fact, and I was going to prove it. Rylie, Rider, she was mine, mine only, mine to keep, mine to cherish and mine to hold. 

She was back, finally! Tears of joy rolled down my cheeks. I had won. I had her back... 

Sobbing, I hurriedly typed out a message. 

Yes. I'll be right there. 

My hands shook as I knew what this meant: the love of my life was opening her graceful arms to me. Everything was going to be okay. 

Later, as the clock struck eight, I arrived at the place. I was wearing a fancy suit with messy hair— I wanted to look prepared, professional and ready to be a good man— but also not threatening. 

"Hi."

She was sitting at a terrace table, red hair chopped off. Her makeup was perfect and she was wearing a frivolous dress that let me make out her breasts perfectly. I looked away— I was not a pervert. I was just someone that knew her body perfectly and longed for it more than ever. I sat down, making sure my vest was perfectly neat. 

"Hi." 

She smiled feebly, looking down at her hands and her perfectly painted nails.  

" I wanted to talk about us."

Inside, my heart accelerated. I know, honey. You love me. You long for me, you need me. You simply cannot live without me. You know you've met someone that you cannot beat. There is no one better than me. I know you want me. I know you want me to kiss you, to show you it's gonna be alright. Patience, muffin. 

" Us?" I asked innocently, gesturing to the waitress. She smiled, took my order and left. 

" JJ..."

" That's my name" I joked, smiling sincerely. I knew I was winning. Local butcher becoming famous writer's fiancé, this was the coolest thing—

" We have a very complicated story don't we? It began so sweet, so beautiful. So... Innocent. Or so I thought, didn't I? Then you let me build my entire career on real murders you committed. You got jealous, you got violent."

Anger started building up in my chest. Me? Jealous? Violent? No. I was great— I was—

" And yet I can't help thinking about you. About the good times. The dates. The laughs. The romance that came from the littlest things. I know we were imperfect—I excused your murders, for god's sake! But we were good, weren't we? I'm not imagining it all, right? We were so good together."

I took a deep breath. 

" We could be good again."

" JJ, this isn't what I am saying."

" Then what it is you're saying? What are you getting at?"

Surprisingly I was calm, sweet even. Old, young, JJ. 

" I'm trying to remember why I left. And the thing is I remember it all too well. But I do want to remember the good too, JJ."

" I thought you remembered the good. I thought that's what you were saying—"

" Should we take a new chance, JJ? Is it worth it? Was it worth running away, was it worth the tears and the heartbreak and the therapy? Can I finally write again? When will I move on, JJ? When will my life begin again? I can't take it anymore. I can't do it anymore."

" Then let's go to Vegas. Let's get married. I'll be good to you, Rider. I'll be a good husband, I'll show you how good I am, how I've changed. I don't do it anymore, I don't hurt people anymore."

" BUT YOU HURT ME!" she yelled, tears streaming down her face. I hadn't noticed them building up, I hadn't noticed the shaking and the nervous looking back in forth. But now I noticed the other clients exclaiming and staring at us, the waitress waiting with my coffee in her hands, wondmaxg if she needed to intervene. 

" And I regret that everyday" I said, calm still " I wish I had been better. But if they hadn't ruined my life... I would never have had to hurt them back. I would be a normal, simple guy. And we would never have met."

" Maybe that would've been better."

" You wouldn't have had a career without me. Your books would never have been as vivid, as talked about in the media. Editors would've thrown away every single draft, turning you down over and over again. You wouldn't found a crummy old dude that would drink his empathy away and use you as his personal punching bag."

" I... You didn't make me. You're not the reason I succeeded."

" But I am, Rylie. Muffin. My dear, sweet, baby."

" I am a tough woman. I would've made it on my own."

" You're a tough wannabe woman that pretends her way through things. Does your public know you're trans? Do they know you're a liar that used my art for your own gain?"

" You— you're— your— your art? You call your murders... ART? OUT ME. FOR ALL I CARE! I'm a REAL woman and you're disgusting!"

That's it, I thought. I grabbed her wrist across the table, threw her body over my shoulder as she screamed and tried to fight me off. I laughed, pretending all was okay and started walking away, throwing  couple euros on the table. 

Then, I arrived at my hotel room. Rylie was screaming, hitting me over and over. I threw her on my bed, quickly using one of the curtains as rope, tying her wrists together. 

" Tomorrow, we're leaving for Vegas. We're getting married. If you refuse, I'll kill you. I'm gonna show you ungrateful girl who you wish you could have. You don't deserve me, Rylie. But I'm so nice. I'm so sweet to you. And I'm gonna make you the happiest you could ever be."

She sobbed, hiding her face behind the curtains that held her wrists together. 

Did the murders she wrote not prepare her for real life?