Her life was in stark contrast to mine.
I was lucky. My family was influential, successful, and wealthy. I had a younger brother and sister, and my parents loved each other. I had gotten a good education. My life was spent serving the family I loved and who loved me back. There was nothing I seemed to lack, and I enjoyed my work.
Kate had nothing. No family, no money, and no job that fulfilled her.
We had absolutely nothing in common except a sense of order, a need for structure, an appreciation of discipline, and a fascination with each other that bordered on obsession.
The Friday night she followed me was only a confirmation of what I already knew.
At this point, I knew everything about her, and every detail was calculated to the letter. In the office, I walked deliberately, close to her, so that she couldn’t help but look at me and smell my aftershave.
Every time she was out, I was close to making sure that she perceived the scent again or felt that she had seen me. I did all of this to make her think of me and then withdraw from her entirely.
I, thereby, only became as addicted to Kate as she was to me, and I gladly accepted that fact. Slowly but surely, I lured her deeper into my net. The moment she stood up in the laundromat and stepped outside to follow me, I knew she would not escape me. I wonder if Kate really realized she was becoming a stalker. Was she even, if I was the one who had seduced her into it?
I watched her via the camera hidden in my collar at the back of my neck, trying to figure out where I was going as inconspicuously as possible.
She didn’t dare enter my restaurant. The waitress would probably have kindly escorted her back out anyway.
The second time, Kate did better. Probably because she had gotten used to it. However, she stopped again on the other side of the street. The fact that Kate was not at the laundromat on third Friday did not unsettle me. I was sure she would be waiting for me at the restaurant, and she was. Kate was sitting way in the back of the restaurant. I saw her before I opened the door and caught her attention. How would she feel when she realized I would be sitting at the other end of the room where she couldn’t see me or even hear me?
I had planned this place so that each guest felt as if they had their own private room. So there was something exclusive about it, which was reflected in the price.
I knew that if Kate showed up at the restaurant again, despite the cost, she would be mine.
The next Friday, the waitress pointed out that someone had occupied a table directly in the back of mine. This was something I wanted to be informed about. When my employee described what this person looked like, I waved it off and took my usual seat.
Kate was quiet as a mouse, yet I could perceive her as we ate dinner together. I heard her breathing, her minimal movements as she ate and drank. She was within reach. But I still had to practice patience.
Never before had I enjoyed luring a person into my trap. I could hardly wait to take the next step.
First, I had to plunge her into darkness and feed her sadness so that she would think I was the light.
Kate loved structure and tradition, and I made sure that Friday nights with her back to me became just that: a ritual. She managed to save face during meetings at the office and ignore me almost as much as I did her. Because she had something to look forward to.
I listened to her as she became more confident and spoke louder to the waitress, as she became less careful not to be noticed by me. When she finally asked for the bill in front of me for the first time, I knew it was time.
For weeks I had nurtured her, sunned her, and given her wings. Now it was time to show her what her life would be like without me.
I watched her through the security cameras in my apartment. From the many times I had watched her, I could read her usually closed face very well. I could feel her suffering, the desperation growing inside her.
Suddenly, I was overcome with doubt—something very unusual for me. Should I have just taken the usual route? Should I have asked Kate out on a date? Rory James probably would have told her not to. He would have been skeptical. Maybe she would have gone out with me anyway. When I thought about how easily she had turned into a stalker, she probably still would have gone on a date with me.
Would Kate have agreed to become a double agent, too? Would she have turned her back on her hard-won life just like that?
“I can see you, little hummingbird,” I whispered in her ear as she sank down into my arms.
Why I called her that, I didn’t know. Maybe it was because she felt very delicate, light, and fragile in my arms as I carried her to my car, waiting for me just outside the alley.
Chapter Three
Kate
When I awoke, I was surrounded by a strange darkness. Golden rays cut across the gloom past me and bounced on the dark floor in front of me. Instinctively, I winced as I remembered my last waking moment. Only then did I realize the strange position I was in: I was suspended in midair! I was hanging so strangely that I couldn’t even look down at myself to determine how I was bound. I couldn’t feel my
