March 5th
Finally, after all this time, she’s right here.
I can barely breathe thinking about it.
I watched her yesterday, just for a moment too long, but she didn’t notice—or maybe she did, and just pretends not to. Christ, I hope she does. What does she think of me? Does she see it? This thing between us?
She said something about the meeting with Dr. Lawrence, a colleague attending this conference with us, but I can’t remember a word she said. Her voice is like a melody, so soft, so soothing, but it makes me anxious, restless. How does she do that? It’s not normal. I’m not normal. Nothing about this is normal.
I’m a fool to be thinking these things. A fool to want her like this.
Or am I?
She smiled at me—was it for me? It felt like it was just for me, like she knows how I feel. But does she? How could she? I have to be careful. I can’t let this get out of hand. She’s my assistant, my subordinate, but more than that... she’s mine. No, that’s wrong. She’s not mine.
But she could be.
She should be.
She belongs in my life.
We fit together so perfectly.
She doesn’t even know it yet, but she will.
I’ll make sure of it.
One day, I can tell her everything—every twisted thought, every desire. Will she be disgusted? Afraid? Or will she smile that smile again, and tell me she’s been waiting for me to say it?
I can’t stop thinking about her.
Fuck, I don’t want to stop.
I’m losing control. I can feel it slipping, and I don’t know if I want to hold on or just let it go. Maybe it’s already too late.
She’ll be near me all day long. I’ll see her again. I have to be careful.
But how can I be calm when she’s so close, so perfect, so?—
Everything.
I have to play it cool. She’s too important to fuck this up.