Page 23 of Deadly Knight

But here I go, trying it out…

I can’t = I can. I can break his heart.

I must = I can. It’ll be best for us both.

I don’t want to = I can. There is no positive to not wanting to do something, so this is the best I got. I can do something I don’t want to do. I got raped even though I didn’t want to.

Huh. Guess I’m not very good at this. But what did she expect?

Maybe we can get past this. Maybe I can be strong enough.

Every time I have those thoughts, I’m mentally retied to the mattress in thatwarehouse with Ivan whispering in my ear.

I’m not strong enough to be a woman I was never meant to be.

Just cold, hard facts. Nothing positive nor negative about that.

Help me, Diary. Save my soul. Be here for me when I break his heart.

Today, tomorrow, the next day. Maybe never. It’ll be kinder to pretend he doesn’t exist than do this. He can hang outside forever, wishing to see me.

The funny (not actually, but it’s my moment of positivity) part is that when he sees me, he’ll wish he was back to being avoided.

Diary,

I can’t do this.

So I’m not.

I’m getting up now. Living life the wayIwant and by no one else’s design.

Diary,

That was a funny joke I told this morning, huh.

Diary,

Tomorrow.

I have to.

Tomorrow, my world shatters.

Two more days pass,and other than the occasional parting of the front blinds when her parents peek outside, there’s no sign of life.

I’m returning after my recent trip home to shower and change clothes when the discomforting sensation of something being wrong rattles my insides.

When I approach her house, the difference becomes obvious. In my few hours’ absence, a new lawn decoration has been added.

AFor Salesign.

Stabbed into the grass by the curb, but could very well be in my heart.

I’ve faced down guns pointed in my face, fought gang members, and murdered those with double my body mass, but for the second time this week, true fear runs through me.

Palms that are suddenly sweaty slide from the steering wheel and onto my lap, and I struggle to get out of the car in my rush to do so.

There must be a reason for the sign. They can’t move. They wouldn’t. Just months ago, Katya mentioned her parents’ plan to keep the house until their deaths, then it’ll get transferred to her. They bought it shortly after their marriage and have lived in it ever since. It’s the place newborn Katya was brought into. The house with all her childhood firsts. A place with too many memories for them to uproot themselves.