Page 40 of Perfect
“You ready?” He seems tense and slightly nervous, which is probably bad for me.
I work hard to keep my voice even so he can’t tell how terrified I am. “Where are we going?”
“I have a fun day planned for us,” he says, his voice tight.
“What’s your idea of a fun day?”
He smiles at me. “Normally, I’d want to stay in bed, but your planner says you were going to go to Portland today, so we’re doing that. I looked at the list of restaurants you want to try and chose a few, and we’ll go to the bookstore, and there’s that showing ofYou’ve Got Mailthat you were looking up times for, and then maybe some shopping?" I nod absently, struggling to keep my face neutral as I feel the numbness creeping in.
He reallyhasbeen stalking me.
“That sounds great,” I say, hoping he can’t hear how forced my voice is. He smiles at me, relieved, and reaches his hand out for mine, gripping hard.
“Let’s go.”
***
Theo’s old Subaru doesn’t have an aux port, so we listen to the radio. He lets me tune it to public radio so I can listen to a news quiz show, and he grins and tells me it’s his favorite. Listening to it keeps us from talking for most of the car ride, and I focus on my breathing.
I just have to get through today and tomorrow.
We go to a little brunch place Bailey recommended, and I order something light, mostly just drinking coffee. It’s awkward. Theo watches my every movement, my every reaction. Danny was unobservant if he was in a good mood, which made my life easier, but I have to be on guard with Theo no matter what. I don’t want to talk to him, but I need to know what I’m dealing with.
“Um, did you grow up in Astoria?” He looks out the window.
“Kind of. I lived in Yakima until I was twelve, and then I moved in with my grandparents.”
“Why?”
“Just worked out like that,” he says with a shrug before turning back to me. “Where did you grow up? I know it wasn’t Maine, by the way,” he teases, and I grit my teeth and scramble for another answer.
“North Carolina.” He narrows his eyes at me, smiling a little.
“Nope.” I shrug, flagging the server for a refill of my coffee.
The day has barely started, and I’m already having difficulty staying focused by the time we stop at the huge bookstore downtown. Theo stays close to me, mostly watching what I pick up, occasionally grabbing something and flipping through it.
“What do you like to read?” I ask, watching him out of the corner of my eye. He shrugs, grabbing a battered copy ofThe House of the Deadand flipping through it.
“I liked this one,” he says as he passes it over. I skim the back, feeling frozen in horror as I read the wordsmurdering his wife, but Theo doesn’t seem to notice my reaction and keeps talking. “I’m used to reading whatever’s available, so I’m not picky. I like your taste, though. You’re a bit of a romantic, you know that?” He rubs my back and I flinch, turning away from him.
He asks me questions and talks to me about books, but I can’t really respond after that. He buys me whatever books are on the list I keep on my phone and others that he thinks I’ll like, and I focus on my breathing.
The movie is two hours of respite. As long as I ignore that he looks over at me frequently, I don’t have to perform for him, and I’m able to calm down enough to focus again. We talk about movies over lunch, and it’s an easier conversation, but he notices I’m not eating much and asks if I’m feeling okay. I have no interest in telling him that stress kills my appetite, so I pretend I don’t like what I ordered.
He looks confused. “You have pad see ew once a week for lunch, and this place iswaybetter than the place by your office.Is it too spicy?” I look down at the food to hide my shock at how much he knows about me.
How long has he been stalking me?
“Yeah, I guess.” I drink my beer slowly, trying to steer the conversation back to an easier topic.
I’m completely overwhelmed from constantly being on guard by the time he takes me shopping. It’s awful. Theoreallywants to buy me things,nicethings,expensivethings. I think of all the unopened gifts at my apartment and try to find ways to dissuade him.
When I mention something’s too expensive, he just shrugs, says it’s not a problem, and buys it. When I say I don’t need something, he gives me a weird look, says I should have anything I want, and buys it. When I tell him I won’t use something, he tells me I should have it just in case, and buys it.
He’s about to buy me a pair of heels I’ll never wear, and I pull him to the back of the store, keeping my voice low.
“Please stop buying me things.”
