Page 17 of The Psychopaths

Years of practice have made me an expert at this performance. At being present while my mind wanders elsewhere. At appearing to be the perfect daughter while maintaining a private inner world.

And tonight, that inner world is entirely occupied with Aries. With the subtle changes in his demeanor. With the strange intensity in his gaze that seemed to see past my careful performance in a way he never has before. With the possibility of campus encounters away from Mother’s watchful eye.

For the first time in years, I allow myself to hope that perhaps something has changed between us. That the careful distance he’s maintained might finally be closing. That college might offer not just academic freedom, but emotional liberation as well.

While Mother discusses table settings for the anniversary dinner, my thoughts circle obsessively around those brief moments with Aries. The way his eyes held mine rather than sliding away. The subtle confidence that seemed to radiate from him. The almost predatory grace that replaced his usual careful restraint.

For two years, I’ve tried to extinguish these feelings. Two years of forcing myself to accept the rejection, to rebuild my pride from the ashes of that humiliating night. Two years of telling myself his coldness was kindness, his distance was necessary, and his rejection was final.

Yet one unexpected encounter has reignited everything I thought I’d buried.

What changed during these summer months? Was it the internship, as Mother suggested? Some newfound independence away from Father’s constant oversight? Or something deeper—a fundamental shift in how he sees himself. In how he sees me.

“Lilian? Are you listening, darling?” Mother’s voice cuts through my reverie.

“Sorry,” I say, straightening slightly. “Just thinking about everything I need to finish packing tonight.”

She accepts the excuse with a nod. “As I was saying, the Prescotts will be seated at table three, though Eleanor has been campaigning for table one since the hospital fundraiser last spring...”

I let her voice fade to background noise again, returning to thoughts of Aries. Of campus meetings free from familial supervision. Of conversations not confined to careful pleasantries across dining tables or formal events.

At Oakmount, I won’t be the fragile Hayes daughter with a heart condition. Won’t have Mother arranging my life down to the minute. Won’t have house staff reporting my every movement. For the first time, I’ll have space to breathe, to exist beyond the narrow parameters that have defined me.

And if Aries will be there Tuesdays and Thursdays...

I suppress the dangerous thought before it fully forms. There’s no stopping the flutter in my chest, which has nothing to do with mydefectiveheart. Logic insists I’m setting myself up for disappointment. That whatever I glimpsed in his changed demeanor means nothing. That the rejection from two years ago still stands.

A deeper thought occurs, reckless and filled with hopeful abandonment, whispering that perhaps we’re both evolving beyond the roles assigned to us. That college might offer not just academic opportunity but personal reinvention. Away from this house. Away from Mother’s constant surveillance. Away from Father’s expectations and the Hayes family reputation.

Just the thought of such freedom makes me lightheaded with possibility. The chance to define myself. To make choices not weighted by family legacy or medical history. To explore feelings I’ve been forced to suppress beneath proper behavior and appropriate responses.

“Earth to Lilian,” Mother says with a slight laugh. “You’re positively somewhere else tonight. Excited about school, I suppose?”

I look up, offering the expected smile. “Very excited. I think it’s going to be...transformative.”

The word carries more meaning than Mother could possibly understand. Transformative in ways that have nothing to do with classes or degrees or the connections she values so highly.

Instead, it has everything to do with the man behind that study door, who looked at me for the first time in years like he actually saw me.

And like he wanted to see more.

Lilian

A Few Weeks Later

The chandelier light makes everyone look washed out, like ghosts haunting a ballroom rather than the most charitable of Oakmount’s elite. I’ve lost track of how many events I’ve attended. Mother’s charity functions have started to blur together—save the children, save the oceans, save the reputation of wealthy families with too much money and not enough guilt.

Same shit, different event.

I do my best not to show my growing hate for these things. A year ago, life was different. In my mind, it felt like I had something to look forward to with school coming up, even if it was small. Aries ignores my existence or pretends to which make things awkward when we see each other, but I know he feels the same as I do. It didn’t matter how many times he told me, in what language, or if he screamed it at the top of his lungs. His body refused to ignore his feelings, even if his brain did.

I knew he felt my presence when I walked into a room, knew he wanted me with the same intensity that I wanted him. Evenif he was too chickenshit to admit it. Or hell, to even follow through when we were both face-to-face with the evidence, physically and mentally.

A tiny part of me wonders if I should just give up. Meet someone new. Put distance between myself and my overprotective family for good.

My mind twists back to Aries, as it always does. At least we were at Oakmount, together. As pathetic as it is, I can usually watch him from wherever I station myself and obsess over him from afar. He’s seen me several times on campus but never speaks to me.

Never seeks me out. That’s fine. I’ll get over this crush eventually? Right?

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