The rest of the day blurs together like some fever dream I can’t wake up from.
After we finished lunch, Alyssa dragged me to the park across from the diner. She wanted to “enjoy the sunshine together” which apparently meant her lying with her head in my lap while I sat against a tree, watching joggers and dog walkers. Every few minutes she’d tilt her head back to look at me with those green eyes, smiling like she’d won the lottery.
Then she insisted we catch the new Grogu and Boba Fett movie. I barely watched ten minutes of it. It was too hard to focus on some green doll when there’s a warm hand sliding up and down my thigh in the dark. She’d lean over every so often to whisper something about the plot, her lips brushing my ear, sometimes pressing quick kisses to my jaw.
Grocery shopping afterward was its own kind of surreal. She pushed the cart while I followed, watching her fill it with actual food. Vegetables and meat and bread and milk, things I haven’t bothered buying in forever. She kept asking my opinion on pasta sauce brands like we’d been doing this for years. When she caught me staring, she’d grab my hand or bump her hip against mine, all casual affection that felt more natural than it should.
We cooked dinner together in my kitchen… Well, she cooked while I sat on a chair watching her move around like she owned the place. She made some chicken and rice dish that was really good. I ate two full plates because she kept refilling them, and insisting I needed to.
I haven’t known this woman even twelve hours yet, but it’s been the most fun I’ve had in years. Which is fucking terrifying when you consider she’s completely insane.
Now we’re sitting on my couch with some sitcom on the TV neither of us are watching. She’s curled against my side, head on my shoulder, one leg thrown over me like we’ve done this a thousand times. The clock on the cable box reads 10:47 PM.
Part of me really wants to see how far she’ll take this whole thing. But another part… The sliver of humanity I have left within me wonders… perhaps she’s not actually psychotic. Maybe she’s just... unwell?
I’m starting to worry I might actually be taking advantage of someone who’s genuinely mentally disabled.
“I’m getting tired baby.”
I glance down at her. “How about you go to bed? I’ll tuck you in.”
She shifts so she can look up at me, and there’s something different in her eyes now. Something heated. “Aren’t you tired too?”
The expression she makes is pure seduction, lips slightly parted, eyes heavy-lidded, like she’s inviting me to follow her into something I’m not sure I’m ready for.
Christ.
If she’s actually disabled and I’m sitting here getting turned on by her invitation, that makes me a complete piece of shit. I’m suicidal, but I’m not a monster. The thought hits me like cold water, cutting through whatever heat was building between us.
I can’t. Not when there’s a chance she doesn’t fully understand what she’s doing.
“I think I’m going to stay up a bit longer,” I say, my voice coming out quieter than I intended.
The change in her face is immediate and devastating. Like watching a porcelain mask crack and fall away all at once.
Her eyes go flat and cold, that warm green turning into something predatory. She sits up slowly, deliberately, pulling her leg away from me like my touch suddenly burns her.
“What is wrong with you?” Her voice comes out sharp and clipped. “After everything we did today?”
She stands up from the couch, pacing toward the kitchen and then back, her movements jerky and aggressive. “After the park, and the movie, and dinner, and everything we shared together, you want to what? Sit here and watch TV?”
I watch her carefully, that feeling in my gut getting stronger. Something’s breaking inside her head, and I can see it happening in real time.
“We always go to bed together,” she says, whipping around to face me. “That’s what we do. That’s our routine.”
“Alyssa…”
“Don’t.” She holds up a hand, stopping me mid-sentence. “Don’t you dare try to explain this away.” Her breathing is getting faster, more shallow. “I know what this is about.”
She spins around and storms toward the kitchen. I watch her grab the knife from earlier.
“Woah, woah, woah…”
“YOU’RE THINKING ABOUT HER, AREN’T YOU!” Her voice cracks as she whips back around, the knife gripped in her fist. “I SHOULD KILL YOU FOR THINKING ABOUT ANOTHER WOMAN, CALEB!”
The pieces click together in my head with perfect, crystalline clarity. This is it. This is exactly what I’ve been waiting for. All those failed attempts, all those moments where I couldn’t follow through, and here she is, ready to do what I never could.
I look her straight in the eyes, my voice steady and calm. “Yeah. Exactly. I was thinking about her.”
The irony hits me like a punch. For once in ten years, saying those words is actually a lie. But if it gets me what I want, then sure. Why not?
She moves toward me with predatory grace, straddling my lap on the couch. I don’t resist, don’t even tense up. I just accept her as she settles on top of me. The knife trembles in her grip as tears stream down her face.
She raises the blade above her head, and I look up at her with pure, unadulterated wonder. She’s gorgeous. I couldn’t ask to be killed by a more beautiful woman. In this moment I have become God’s luckiest child.
I close my eyes tight, anticipation coursing through me like electricity.
And then... nothing.
Time goes on. No pain, no stabbing.
The clatter of metal hitting hardwood makes me flinch. I slowly open my eyes to find her cupping her own face with both hands, laughing. It starts as a chuckle but builds into something wild and breathless.
“You got me, honey.” She shakes her head, still laughing. “You wanted me to kill you, didn’t you?”
The laughter gets harder, more unhinged. She leans down and kisses my neck, then nuzzles against it like some affectionate cat.
“Wow, you really almost got me to do it too. You’re clever.”
“No, Alyssa. I would never…”
Her hand clamps over my mouth, cutting off the protest. Her eyes are bright with something between amusement and fury.
“You think I don’t know my husband well enough to see through him?” She scoffs, the sound sharp and dismissive.
She brings her face closer to mine, so close I can feel her breath on my lips.
“I know what you think you want, Caleb.”
She kisses me then, soft and lingering, her hand still pressed against my mouth when she pulls back.
“But you’re wrong. And I’ll show you.”
Her smile is equal parts tender and terrifying. She settles more comfortably in my lap, her weight pinning me to the couch.
“Did you really think it would be that easy?” she whispers, trailing her fingers along my jaw. “That I’d just... what? Have a little tantrum and stab you to death? My own husband?”
“Well, I mean... you broke into my…”
Her hand cracks across my cheek hard enough to make my ears ring. The sound echoes through the apartment like a gunshot.
She’s laughing again, that wild sound from before. “I did no such thing!”
Before I can process what’s happening, her hands are at my belt, fumbling with the buckle. The sudden intimacy of it makes my brain short-circuit.
“Look, I really can’t,” I say, trying to shift away from her on the couch.
She stops and stares at me like I’m the crazy one. Her eyes drop down to my lap, then back up to my face with pure disbelief.
“You’re so hard you’re almost ripping a hole through your pants, Caleb!”
She’s not wrong, and that makes this whole situation infinitely more complicated.
“I can’t do it with you,” I blurt out.
“AND WHY THE FUCK NOT!”
I lean in close, dropping my voice impossibly lower. “Well, I’m nervous you might be... slow or something.”
She blinks at me, the anger replaced by genuine confusion. “You think I’m retarded?”
“I don’t know. And if you are, I certainly can’t just fuck you.”
Her mouth falls open slightly. “That’s what this is about!”
“Well... yeah.”
She goes completely still for a long moment, processing this. I watch her face cycle through several emotions before settling into something calmer.
She reaches up and takes my face gently in both hands, her thumbs brushing across my cheekbones.
“Baby, come on. You know I’m not retarded.”
“I’m not sure we’re allowed to say that word anymore.”
A small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. “We can if it’s just us.”
“I guess that’s true...”
She leans forward, resting her forehead against mine. “Caleb, I promise you I’m not mentally disabled. I’m just...” She pauses, searching for the right words. “I’m just very, very in love with you.”
The sincerity in her voice catches me off guard. There’s still something unhinged dancing around the edges of her eyes.
“You’re crazy.”
Her smile doesn’t falter. If anything, it gets wider, more genuine. She tilts her head like I’ve just said something endearing.
“You just lied to me to get me to kill you,” she says, voice soft with amusement.
I stare up at her, still pinned beneath her weight on the couch. There’s no point in denying it.
“Yeah.” I admit.
“Let’s go to bed, baby.”
“Okay.”