A comforting haven from the rain battering the downtown streets, the café was barely lighted. Tracing patterns in her cappuccino froth, Elena sat at her customary corner table. For the third time, she looked at the clock. She whispered to herself,
“He’s late again.”
“Am I?” She was startled by a strong voice. When she looked up, Liam was standing there with his rain-damp hair and a crooked smile that made her annoyance go away. She tried to sound serious as she said, “You know I hate waiting.”
“And I love making an entrance, you know.” With mischievous eyes, he slid onto the seat across from her.
She smiled in spite of herself. Liam had the ability to disarm her and make her forget about the outside world. Their romance had been a wild ride. Six months ago, a fortuitous meeting at a bookstore had evolved into late-night phone conversations, stolen kisses, and secret vows. Charming, enigmatic, and completely seductive was Liam. Something about him, though, seemed elusive, like a shadow hiding behind his smile. Elena posed the topic she had been dreading one evening while they were curled up together on her couch.
“Why don’t you ever talk about your past?”
Liam tensed up, stopping his motion across her hair in the middle.
“It’s not that interesting,” he said lightly.
“Everyone has a story,” she pressed.
His face was unreadable when he sat up. “It’s better to keep some stories to yourself.” Elena didn’t try harder, but the uneasiness became a stone in her chest. After a few weeks, things started to fall apart. Elena began to notice oddities. She would lose a book on her shelf. Missed calls from strange numbers would flash on her phone. At one point, she claimed to have heard footsteps outside her window in the middle of the night. Liam dismissed it when she brought it up to him. “You’re simply under stress.” Work has been quite hectic.
However, the sensation that someone was observing her persisted. Liam treated her to a candlelit meal at his flat one evening as a surprise. His voice was quiet as he replied, “I wanted to remind you how much you mean to me.” Touched by the gesture, Elena grinned. Warmth took the place of the uneasiness that had been eating away at her. She observed a drawer in Liam’s desk that was slightly open after dinner as he left to get dessert. Her curiosity overcame her. There were pictures within. of her. She had pleasant memories of some of their dates. Others, however, showed her sitting by herself in the park, walking to work, or even looking out her apartment window. She flipped through her hands, which shook.
“Taking pleasure in the memories?” She jumped when she heard Liam’s voice. She whirled, holding the pictures tightly.
“Liam, what is this? You have these, but why? He had a tranquil, even placid expression.
“Even though I couldn’t be with you, I wanted to keep you close.”
“This isn’t typical!” she yelled.
“This is stalking!” His eyes grew black as he cocked his head.
“I say love, you say stalking.” Elena retreated, her heart racing. “I have to leave.”
But Liam stood in her way.
“Elena, you don’t get it. I took care of this for us. She spat, “For us?” “This is sick!” He took a firm hold of her wrist. “You’re not getting it. Nothing in my life makes sense except for you. I can’t let you go. She pushed through him and fled somehow. She continued till she returned to her apartment, closing all of the windows and doors. She didn’t hear from Liam for days. Perhaps she was safe, she thought. That is, until one night she discovered the note: You can’t run from love—on her pillow. Elena called the police, but they didn’t listen to her worries. They declared, “He hasn’t done anything illegal.”
She started looking into Liam’s history out of desperation. Her blood ran cold at what she discovered. His real name was not Liam. He had previously engaged in compulsive relationships, some of which resulted in his partners going missing. A week later, the last altercation took place. When Elena got home, her flat was dark and without electricity. As she struggled for her phone, her pulse accelerated. “Searching for this?” In the shadows, Liam’s voice reverberated. Her phone clattered on the floor as she whirled around. With a mask of placid rage on his face, Liam emerged from the shadows. His voice was low as he replied, “You went to the police.” “Elena, that hurt.”
Her voice was shaking as she added, “Avoid me.” He moved closer and said, “But I love you.” She quickly reached for the kitchen knife she had previously concealed. “Avoid getting any closer!” He halted, squinting his eyes. Would you harm me, Elena? after all that we have endured? Her voice broke as she continued, “You don’t love me.” “You have an obsession.” He merely stared at her for a moment. Then he smiled sorrowfully and remarked, “No one can have you if I can’t.” She shrieked and slashed out with the knife as he lunged. Elena was shaking on the ground with the knife in her bleeding hands when the police arrived. Liam lay still next to her.
“Self-defense,” she repeatedly said, tears running down her cheeks. One of the officers, however, hesitated as they escorted her out. “This isn’t over” was written in Liam’s blood on the wall.