Page 57 of Perfect
So far, I’ve found that anything that challenges his delusion is either ignored or twisted to suit it.
He doesnotlike being called a stalker. He hates that I flinch when he touches me. He likes it if I’m nice to him or if I act domestic with him in any way. He seems to be able to tell when I’m lying and doesn’t like it. Any time he notices anything about us that seems similar or complementary, he seems really excited.
Those moments are concerning because they seem to drive him deeper into the delusion, and they happenoften.
Since he thinks we’re dating, I mostly see him before and after work. He texts me during the day, but I’ve found that acknowledging a few texts throughout the day makes him likely to text less. There’s no point in trying to avoid him. I don’t tell him where I’m going, but I’m no longer surprised when he shows up.
Healwaysshows up.
My biggest concern is that he’s stopped having sex with me. He touches me, he kisses me, he holds me in bed, but he doesn’t fuck me. I can tell he wants to, but he doesn’t, and it makes me nervous. I don’t want to initiate sex and play into his delusion that we’re together, but I’m concerned that if we don’t start having sex soon, he’s going to change his mind about hurting me.
I won’t initiate sex, but if I did, it would just be to make sure he didn’t hurt me.
No other reason.
***
Theo’s up early, making me breakfast and rifling through my things. I try to ignore him and go back to sleep, but the smell of coffee and bacon makes it hard. Once I give up and get out of bed, I see he’s in a good mood, smiling at me and buzzing around the kitchen, telling me he has plans for us this weekend.
He might kill me.
He might fuck me.
He’s definitely going to cook for me.
I doubt it’ll be anything else.
We spend the day driving down the coast, listening to the classical station on the radio. I haven’t been down the coast that much since I don’t have a car, and it’s beautiful. It’s different from Cape Cod, with large cliffs visible down the shoreline and craggy rocks jutting up through the water off the coast. It’s cold and overcast, a soft drizzle turning the beaches a dark grey.
The first beach we go to is particularly windy, and Theo pulls a slim red puffer jacket out of the trunk of his car for me. He says it’s an ex-girlfriend’s and that I can borrow it, but it’s new and it’s my size. I let him lie and I take it, grateful to have it.
The beach looks familiar, even though I’ve never been here before. Theo tells me it’s where they filmed The Goonies, and I laugh, telling him my dad loved that movie. I get quiet for a moment, a sharp pang of grief piercing through me, and Theo seems to register that I’ve used the past tense.
I wonder, not for the first time, how much he knows about my life in Boston.
He walks close to me but doesn’t touch me, waiting for a while before he starts in on his normal bullshit of asking me questions about myself. I give him short, vague answers, and when he asks something I don’t want to talk about, I redirect the question to him instead. He gives me a knowing look when I do it, but he plays along anyway.
I don’t like showing interest in him, but I need to get to know him better to deal with him. I’ve been trying to ask him about himself more lately, but for all his expecting me to be open, he’s cagey in his own answers. Most of them are so vague that I’m sure he’s lying about pretty much everything. By the time we get back to the car, the only new thing I’ve learned about him is that his dad also died when he was a kid.
We keep driving down the coast, and I watch the scenery pass by in silence. Theo seems relaxed, which is new. When I met him at the bar and again at my office, he seemed laid-back, but in reality, he’s very high-strung. He seems calmer today, more like before, which makes me feel less nervous around him.
I know it’s a mistake to get comfortable with him, but I can’t help it.
After a couple of hours, we pull into a small town and park along the two-lane highway, which serves as the main street through town. Theo grabs two pairs of binoculars from the trunk, and we walk down to a lookout point with a squat, concrete building. He hands me the binoculars, standing behind me and pointing out seals on rocks, and birds, and boats in the distance.
It’s beautiful.
Theo swears excitedly at one point and turns my head slightly, directing my sight farther out into the water. I’m amazed as I see the slick back of a whale push up slightly from the water, another following a second later. I see the very tips of their tails break the surface, and I’m awestruck for a moment.
“Oh mygod,” I whisper as I lean forward. I try to follow them, but they don’t surface again. I pull the binoculars down and look over at Theo, finding myself blushing at how he’s looking at me with open affection.
“Have you ever seen whales before?” I shake my head, and he grins. “This time of year can be iffy, so I’m glad they werehere.” I smile at him for just a second, then look away quickly when I realize what I’m doing, training my binoculars back out on the water. We stay there for a while, waiting to see if any other whales appear, and I berate myself silently for letting my guard down for a second.
Theo puts the binoculars back in the car before leading me down a little path by the whale-watching building to a cluster of tide pools. I’m able to forget the situation entirely for a moment as I peer down into the pool, and nothing exists to me outside of the slow march of a sea star across the rocks until I hear a camera shutter. I look up in horror at Theo, phone in hand.
“Delete that,now,” I snap. Theo seems taken aback.
“It’s just a photo.” I debate with myself for a second, figuring out if I want to push it, but my anxiety wins out.
