Chapter 19
JEKYLL
Iset Catherine’s diary aside. Guilt twisted my stomach.
I should not have let curiosity get the better of me.
I had snuck into our bedroom to leave her a present, a silver locket with our photo in it, before leaving for the hotel where we would be married tomorrow.
Her diary was out on her vanity, open to the last page.
Like a fool, I had hoped to read about her excitement about our wedding, maybe her love for me.
It was my own fault I learned the truth.
She still longed for my alter ego Hyde.
I felt like Dr. Frankenstein, forever tormented and tortured by a monster of my own making.
I had banished Hyde from our lives and yet he was still there, taunting me from the ether. His words came back to me with punishing clarity.
After that disastrous attempt at seduction, can you really blame the woman for falling for the charms of a better man?
Take my advice, old chap. Women detest weak men.
No woman wants the hesitant caress of a bashful man.
They crave the firm hand that comes from arrogant confidence and power.
Even more preferably if that firm hand is spanking their backside and pulling their hair.
I set the diary aside. Leaving the small jewelry box on her nightstand where she would find it, I left the room.
It had been my intention to head straight to the hotel.
Instead, I crept down to the basement. It had only taken a few minutes to locate the old steamer trunk.
I knelt on the cold-packed earth floor, brushed the dust and cobwebs off it and raised the lid.
Nestled inside were my old leather-bound research journal and several dark glass bottles with half-torn labels.
I picked one up. I could barely read my own scribbled handwriting, but I still recognized the chemical.
I rifled through the rest of the bottles, making sure I had everything I needed.
Without thinking of the consequences, I cleared a spot on the floor and began to open the chemical bottles, measuring out their contents. As I worked, I could hear Catherine’s footsteps above me.
When I was finished, I stared at the crimson liquid.
I took a deep breath. If Catherine longed for Hyde, then I would give her Hyde.
I raised the formula to my lips and drank.
* * *
Hyde
I flexed my fingers and curled them into fists as I climbed the basement stairs. I threw open the door with such force it slammed against the wall. Catherine was standing nearby. She turned with a start.
I smiled. “Miss me, pet?”
The end.