Page 279 of Love Me in the Dark
I scan the room, my pulse quickening. I know I’m imagining it, but I don’t feel like I’m being watched. I don’t feel the camera I know Roman had to be watching before. There’s no shadow behind the door. The walls are still pristine, the curtains still drawn back to frame the endless forest beyond. But it feels… hollow.
Lifeless.
My feet touch the rug and I brace myself. I tiptoe toward the open door, expecting him to appear. To say something cryptic. To offer food like a command. But the hallway outside is empty.
And downstairs…
It’s worse.
No Roman.
Just the hollow sound of my breath echoing off luxury I never wanted.
Then I see it.
A sleek black envelope on the granite counter, and even without my name scrawled on it, I know it’s meant for me.
A wad of cash sitting inside, making me feel like a whore and impressed at the same time. Brand new, hundred dollar bills, all amounting to thousands. More than I’ve ever seen in one place in my entire life.
My driver’s license, which I don’t even think will be valid anymore since Roman so carefully explained to me that he erased my life.
Car keys I’ve never seen before, especially since I absolutely can’t afford a vehicle or the insurance that’s supposed to go with it.
The necklace that I had hidden in the bottom of my closet in my shitty apartment. The one he was so careful to bring when he stole me.
But at least there’s a note in the same precise, all-caps lettering as the label on the food trays, right? The sarcasm eating its way through my thoughts is like acid.
YOUR CHOICE.
That’s all it says.
I stare at it like it might catch fire. Like it might explode. My fingers tremble as I lift the keys. He’s letting me go?
Is this a trick?
My thoughts spiral—visions of tracking devices, poisoned ink, or worse. Maybe he’s filming this. Maybe there are ten men waiting outside with guns and orders.
The house remains silent.
The walls don’t close in. The doors don’t lock.
There’s nothing here but air and choice.
Choice.
The word is foreign on my tongue. Like a prayer I don’t remember how to say.
I don’t trust it. I don’t trust him. I don’t trust any of this.
This isn’t a choice.
He rejected me.
Like I knew he would. He took what he wanted, and then he was done with me.
Fuck this.
If he wanted me to choose, he’d be here, asking me to choose. Instead, he’s getting rid of me the same way that everyone else has always gotten rid of me before.
