Page 74 of Deeply Examined

I advance through every night that follows, and it’s like one of those nature shows where a time-lapse movie shows a flower transform from a bud into a full-blown blossom. Every night he sits in that chair like a guardian angel and watches me sleep, but over weeks and months, he evolves. First, he moves closer. A few weeks later, he tucks the covers around me before he leaves. Soon, he brushes hair from my face, and by the end he presses a kiss to his fingers and transfers it to my forehead. It’s like I’m witnessing the slow progression of his love for me, the dismantling of his walls.

For the first time, I think maybe we can make it through this. I’m sure if we talk about it in the morning, he’ll have a good explanation. Judging from what Kent said, West was a very different person in high school. He must have been ashamed. That’s probably why he hid that he recognized me. If I put myself in his shoes, it all starts to make sense. He was embarrassed and wanted us to have a fresh start. It’s almost romantic when I think about it. Maybe he’s had feelings for me all these years. He saw his one opportunity with me and didn’t want to pollute it with the old image of himself.

We can do this, I think.

We can move past the lies and make it work.

I hit play on one final clip, the night of the gala. West kneels beside my bed, whispering words I strain to hear.

“Sometimes I think fate made you just for me,” he murmurs. “That you’re the world’s way of making up for every shitty thing that came before. If that’s the case, then I’m okay with it. It was worth it, all the pain and suffering, to get you at the end.” He tenderly brushes my hair away from my face and gently kisses my forehead.

My hand rises to clutch my chest as I stifle a sob. It’s the sweetest, most impassioned speech I’ve ever heard. Emotion swells in my chest, overwhelming joy to know he loves me so deeply.

On the screen he whispers, “I’ve fucked hundreds of women, but I’ve only ever kissed one.”

Something silver and sharp flashes in his hand.

Time stretches out—freezes.

I watch with mounting horror as West stabs a needle into my neck.

My hand flies to the spot, and sure enough. There it is. A tiny, hard object embedded under my skin.

What the fuck?

Chapter seventeen

Adam

She’s gone.

The realization slams into me the moment I wake, and the world tilts off its axis. The condo is too quiet, too still. There’s an emptiness I can sense without even leaving the bedroom. My pulse surges as I bolt upright. My gaze darts around and finds nothing. I was asleep for less than an hour. How could this have happened?

Maybe it’s a mistake. Maybe I’m overreacting, and I’ll find her upstairs, safely tucked away where she belongs.

I stagger out of bed, my voice hoarse and breaking as I call her name.

“Jessica?”

Only silence answers back, deafening in its loudness.

“Jessica!”

Room by room, I tear through the condo, my heart a drumbeat of panic. Each empty space is a mocking reminder of her absence, each unanswered shout a knife twisting deeper into my chest.

She’s not in her room. I search her closet and the downstairs bathroom where she once left her butterfly necklace on the counter.

Nothing.

Her things—every trace of her—is gone as if she never existed. It’s like she was a dream, a figment of my overactive imagination.

That can’t be true, right?

She wasreal. I held her. Loved her.

Then I see it.

I’ve just entered my lair, where the security cameras and my special exam table reside. My throat goes dry when I look at the monitors. Every single one of them displays the same haunting image.

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