11. Cas
Chapter eleven
Cas
S unday has simultaneously become the best and worst day. I’ve enjoyed the farmer’s market ever since I started going, but Will’s presence has complicated the experience for me. I look forward to seeing him. And yet, without fail, something happens that makes me all twitchy inside and I have to work to hide it. When that one older guy (who loves to flirt while his wife browses) stops to talk to him, I pause to glare instead of continuing the task at hand. I don’t want him so much as talking to other people—because he should be doing that with me . And when his gaze lands elsewhere, I have to fight the urge to make a scene. The kind where I gouge out someone’s eyes so they can’t look back at Will again. Or the kind that’ll make him look in my direction, however briefly. When we’re texting or on the phone, I get to be his entire world. Out here, not so much. And it’s nothing short of infuriating for me.
My phone dings in my pocket after I leave the farmer’s market. I have plans to meet someone at the coffee shop in town, but I’m still waiting for him to arrive. So, after a quick look around, I decide to check my messages in the meantime.
Purple Puppy: I’m having a rough day.
Purple Puppy: Make it better.
And a frown.
Orchid Mantis: How do you propose I do that?
Purple Puppy: Send me a video of you fucking yourself.
And a smile. As if the smiley somehow will tip the scales of my decision.
Orchid Mantis: No.
Purple Puppy: Too much?
Back to the frown.
Orchid Mantis: Simple logistics. I can’t talk on the phone and record at the same time.
Purple Puppy: Record it before I call you.
Right back to the enthusiastic smile.
Orchid Mantis: Still no.
Purple Puppy: Why not?
Oh, and the pleading eyes. If only he knew that had no effect on me.
Orchid Mantis: Because I don’t ever fuck myself unless I’m doing it for you. And if I can’t hear you asking me, I’m not going to be able to get into it.
Purple Puppy: Fuck, that’s hot.
Purple Puppy: I’m going to have to figure out how to send audio messages in this app or something because I literally need to see this before I die.
Orchid Mantis: You plan on dying soon?
Purple Puppy: You plan on meeting up with me anytime soon?
Orchid Mantis: No.
Purple Puppy: Then don’t tease me when I’m already having a bad day.
And another distressed emoji.
Poor Will. I had a feeling he would react this way, but all the pieces must keep moving in my direction. This is something I need to do to ensure it. Even if he’s looking at the board from a different angle, we’re in the same game.
Orchid Mantis: What’s got you so down?
Purple Puppy: I don’t wanna talk about it. Hmph.
Orchid Mantis: Yes, you do. You brought it up.
Purple Puppy: I did what you said about trying to see where things go with my friend. But I think he’s trying to see someone else. And that guy I like… progress has gone nowhere with him.
Orchid Mantis: Are you upset your friend is getting involved with someone else?
Purple Puppy: No.
And a sweating smiley.
Purple Puppy: Uhh… how do I say this…
Purple Puppy: We haven’t quite figured out where we stand yet. And until we do, I want him all to myself.
Purple Puppy: I can’t help myself from going all in, and even when I’m not quite there yet, I’m a tad possessive. Is that bad?
Orchid Mantis: I’d argue self-awareness is healthier than denial. I like to think that I deserve to take up all your attention and I’ll gladly shove anyone in my way off a bridge. So, I suppose that makes me a tad selfish, but at least I’m well aware of my tendencies.
Purple Puppy: Oh, and that makes it healthy?
And a laughing emoji.
Orchid Mantis: Precisely. How else can you learn to control it if you won’t even acknowledge it? Denial will only harm you in the long run. Learn to embrace it.
I flick my eyes up just in time. He’s walking in.
Orchid Mantis: Gotta run.
Purple Puppy: Where?
Orchid Mantis: Out.
Purple Puppy: Talk tonight?
Orchid Mantis: Probably.
Purple Puppy: Tease.
And a wink.
That makes my heart pick up in pace. I can’t promise him I won’t be busy tonight, but really and truly, I don’t see this taking up my entire evening.
I’m right about my night being free. By the time I get home, the sky’s dark and the air has begun to chill again. We’re in the time of year where the days are on their way to getting shorter and the temperatures drop with the sun. Autumn is right around the corner on the calendar, but it always arrives sooner the farther north you are.
Instead of going straight inside to escape the brisk air, I take a midnight stroll on my property for no particular reason.
Well, that’s not entirely true. I have a reason, but I don’t want to admit it to myself. I don’t change my mind often. Once I’m set on something, I won’t let it go—be it an object, idea, or person. Right now, I’m set on Will. Any thoughts concerning him should be about how I’m going to kill him.
Normally, at this stage, I’m more focused on the idea than the person. I’m planning every step, factoring every detail, and even going so far as to walk my property while imaging every step—one part daydream and one part dress rehearsal. And I’m having a hard time focusing when Will’s starring in my fantasy. My mind goes… elsewhere.
A lot of the area around my house is wooded, giving the illusion of privacy as well as isolation. Amid the darkness, I don’t rely on my eyes so much as the crunching of leaves and small twigs that have blown their way over to my destination. Henri still hasn’t been moved to his final location. That’s another thing I have to do sooner rather than later. Can’t be leaving him in the greenhouse all winter. Time to get to work. The insects have about picked him clean, but the meat grinder in the basement can take care of the rest. After that, well, calcium is very good for lawns and I have a lot of property out here.
The wind blows right through me upon passing the greenhouse and I sink further into my jacket, taking a breath while I stand in the dark. I haven’t devoted too much time to Will, but I spent a lot on Henri. Maybe longer than on any guy ever . Still don’t miss him, the person. The attention, the dance of growing obsession, and even how the planning stage took over most of my mind and my time. When I try to insert Will into that equation, it doesn’t feel as satisfying as it should.
Maybe I won’t kill Will.
No, that feels too resolute. Maybe I won’t kill him yet . A much more realistic compromise with myself. One that says I’m allowed to change my mind, regardless of what happens next.