* * *

Night fell slowly. My anticipation was growing. I’d sat down the road for a few hours, watching her house. The husband had left an hour ago for his night shift. I’d given Clara a little longer; I knew she’d be excited to see me too, but I had to time this right. I pulled the teddy from the passenger seat, pregnancy test taped tightly to its paws. The tape had deformed its head a little but I was sure she wouldn’t mind. Not when she saw me. 

Her house was a corner plot surrounded by high fences. So nice and quaint. They wouldn’t stop me. I waltzed over,  pulling her house key from my pocket —I’d made a copy of that too— and locked the front door. Just in case. I couldn’t have her running away from me. 

I made my way around the side of the house, stopping only to reach up and unlatch the gate. With my thick boots, I stomped right through her neat flowerbeds, kicking up flowers and crushing the delicate petals. She’d worked hard for this house and I’d never dream of taking that away from her—just the small things. Across the miniature courtyard wound a manicured wisteria vine, weaving around a trellis that lead right up to the window I would enter from. I, her Romeo, would climb up, and she, my Juliet, would be ready for my loving embrace.

The moon tried to betray me, holding back its light. It was out to get me like the others were. Despite its feeble attempts, I still found the wood beneath the foliage and caught hold. Up and up I climbed to the open window calling my name, begging me to rescue my Juliet. 

Shimmying through was easy enough, but the landing was far from desirable. I’d fallen on my arse, legs akimbo on her bedroom floor. I pulled the teddy from my shirt where I’d stuffed it for safety and placed it on her bed, facing the door for when she entered. The stairs clattered as she stormed up.

“You better not be—oh.” She froze, blue eyes wild, terrified, empty. “W-Who . . . ”

I grinned. “Who is this?” I pointed to the teddy and pat his head. “The kids call it Pikachu. It’s for you, both of you, see. I found the test.”

The door slammed on its hinges. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be as easy as I thought. I rushed to reopen it calling to her, “It’s alright, Clara, your father isn’t here. It’s just me.”

“Get away from me!”

“Clara.”

“Fuck off.” She squealed and shrieked, thundering back downstairs. “I’m not Clara.”

Why wasn’t she listening? Were her father’s lies still in her head? I followed, needing her to listen. Down I followed, backing her into the kitchen.

“Come back, I just want to talk.” I tried to sound calm and careful but I could feel the frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

“Yes, hi, police please—”

“Don’t you dare!” I yelled, rushing towards her grabbing after the phone.

She had her back to me, fingers clamped around the mobile. I had seconds to stop her. No time to play nice. I shoved her into the back door, her face slamming the glass. It was enough to send the phone bouncing on the tiles sliding towards the fridge. I snatched it up and threw it into the full kitchen sink. No police.

“Look what you made me do,” I hissed as she cowered on the floor. “I was going to be nice to you. I even brought you a present.” I paused. “But I suppose you can still make it right again. Just forgive me for earlier. I know cleaning the car will be a nightmare, but you had to be punished.”

“I d-don’t know who the f-fuck you are. Leave me alone.”

“Don’t be like that,” I soothed, closing in on her. “You don’t need to pretend now, truly. It’s just you and me. I locked all the doors. Nobody can interrupt us. I know why you did it, why you pretended to be dead. But I saw all the things you were doing, letting me know you still cared. I even saw you in the woods.”

I placed a hand on her head, fingertips rolling down her glossy hair.

“You sicko.”

Clara sprung to her feet, pushing me away, hurrying anywhere else but here. How could she? I loved her. She loved me. We were going to be a family all together. She needed to be punished some more. To make her see.

“You told me you loved me,” I yelled at where she once stood. “Was that a lie too? Like the funeral?”

I hunted through the house for her, stepping over strewn paperwork and broken glass. She wouldn’t get far from me.

“Please, give me five minutes? Don’t make me hurt you again. I don’t want to. I love you, Clara, I never stopped loving you. Even after everything you did. It’s all your fault but I can forgive you.”

I peered into the study, checking under the desk, behind the door, all for nothing. I stopped, listening for footsteps. I smiled as I heard the creak, creak, creak of the floorboards above.

Oh, Clara. You’ll regret this.

It took only moments to reach her on the stairs, grabbing her deliciously-soft wrist. I could snap it so easily. I wanted to.

Frozen in place, the shock robbing her of any senses, I could see the fear and fury in her eyes. She wanted to fight back. Yet here she was at my mercy.

She screamed again and I clamped a hand over her mouth. “Shush, calm down now, my sweet. I just want to talk, alright?” Clara nodded. I smiled. “Good. Now, let’s return to the bedroom.”

Yes. That’s right. Surrender to me.

Step. Step. Step. We’d reached the top of the stairs. Her wrist was still tight in my sweaty palm. I hovered closer, breathing her scent. I wanted to taste that ripe fruit being crushed beneath me. One little bite. What harm could that do? Pinning her tighter, I pressed myself against that lithe body of hers. She tried to wriggle free, but I wasn’t letting go.

With a muffled cry, she buried her elbow into my stomach. I gritted my teeth and tried to hold on, but she was quick. Spinning, she shoved against me with everything she had and backwards I fell, head bouncing off the stairs, body following after. Pain lanced through my skull, bright and searing as I landed in a heap at the bottom, the room spinning round and round.

Another scream and I looked up to see something falling, hard and heavy, bang, bang, bang. My hand flew to my head as it landed with a crash, smashing into pieces and clattering down on me. I groaned in pain, pulling my bloodied hand away.

“I get it,” I said, trying to push everything off of me as I stood. “You’re mad at me. I pushed you off the cliff, you pushed me down the stairs. But we’re even now right? Now we can move on?”

Clara wasn’t at the top of the stairs. 

Hobbling, I pushed through the pain and hurried back up.

“Come on Clara. That’s enough now. Look, you’ve made me bleed.” My hand left a bloody print on the door as I pushed it open. “Time to patch me up.”

I saw as Clara scrambled out of the window, red curls catching on the handle. A shriek, then nothing. I rushed to the window. 

“No, no, don’t hurt yourself.”

Below in the darkness lay Clara, half-buried in a bush and still. No, no. You can’t do this to me. I told you before only I was allowed to hurt you. I clambered up into the window, swinging my leg over. Still Clara didn’t move.

I’m coming, my Juliet.

I lowered myself quickly, feet reaching for the trellis once again. Brick. Only brick. I froze for a second as I hung limp from the windowsill, feet scrambling at nothing. Where’s the trellis? I couldn’t—

Sweaty fingers slipped on the sill. Air whooshed by as I plummeted. A sickening crack.

“Oh god.”

Eyes open. Vision blurred. Clara pulled herself from the bush, untangling from the trellis now on the floor.

It hurts.

I couldn’t find the strength to open my mouth.

She did it. She must have moved the trellis.

Footsteps stomping away from me. My love, leaving me here. She’s going to get help. Of course. My love would not betray me.

Coldness seeped in, exhaustion called to me. I’m just going to sleep for a minute until she returns . . .

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