Page 85 of Destined for the Devil
And I need you to know that even if you never speak to me again, even if you damn me to a life of eternal suffering, even if you spend the rest of your life cursing my name…you will forever be it for me.
The beginning. The middle. The end.
I love you.
Roman
Jewelry, flowers, chocolates, my favorite coffee, champagne, lingerie, shoes, and random things I didn't actually care for. Roman knew I didn’t need any of it. But I guessed he thought the effort would count for something.
It all collected in a pile in the corner of my Airbnb, untouched. Except the letters. Every night before bed, I would read them and cry myself to sleep, drowning in the only comfort I had.
Weeks passed in distracted sadness, and finally, mythirdrealtor sent me exactly what I wanted. Life was strange; I found her accidentally. My Airbnb had a ton of flyers coming right to the door, and hers caught my eye. She looked normal, didn’t seem sleazy, and was a young woman like me. I called her without any expectations, and we hit it off. She was lovely to work with.
The late October sunshine doused the apartment we were touring in orange light. Crisp air flowed through the open windows, and the brick walls and light hardwood floors made me feel at peace. The loft seemed perfect. It hit all my checkboxes, and logically, I liked it. But I had nogenuine happiness for anything.
"The great thing about this loft is that it's already soundproofed, the maintenance fees aren't exorbitant, it's on the third floor—which is much safer than the first, and the view!" The realtor walked up to the windows, and indeed, the view of the neighborhood was lovely.
"Lastly.” She turned to me, smiling as if thinking someone over. “I'm really not supposed to tell you this, but…I had a client who lived in this building in the past, and there’s a way to access the rooftop.” She pointed up. “It's flat, the ledges are high, and it's very private. Put up a few chairs and some twinkly lights, and you have your own private patio." My realtor, Mia Tanner, really was very good.
She submitted the offer, and it got accepted. I bought my own apartment! I was in disbelief, like I was living in an alternate reality. I had ahome.After years of instability and discomfort, Iowneda beautiful place.
The large bedroom was upstairs with its own bathroom, and the rest was open concept with huge windows illuminating the whole place. I wanted to renovate the kitchen and change the floors, but otherwise, the place was ready to move into today.
My life was changing, normality was slowly creeping in, and as exciting as it was to have a home to live in, nothing brought meanyjoy.
I suffered. Day and night. Without him, I couldn't and didn't want to enjoy anything. It's like I was living in a movie. Nothing felt real; nothing felt good.
Roman never let it go—he kept his eye on meeverywhereIwent. School, work, my Airbnb, the coffee shop. Someone was following me every step of the way, and he was probably getting updates when he wasn’t accosting me in random places.
Fine. He could torture himself all he wanted, but…he was also torturing me.
Every night, he showed up in my dreams.Every night.Every morning when I opened my eyes, I’d turn to the side, thinking he was beside me. And every morning reality rudely slapped me in the face.
I was alone and broken, never to be complete again.
By mid-December, I was truly exhausted from all the work the semester threw my way. I was emotionally drained and physically depleted. My birthday was coming up, but it meant nothing to me, just like the last few years.
My last day at the clinic wrapped up, and Mia took me for a celebratory dinner, presenting me with keys to my new home.
Her bright smile put me at ease, and we chatted about random things, carefree and unserious. She was radiating happiness and positivity, and the dagger of jealousy stabbed me deep in the heart. She was able to live her life without pain and suffering…and I wanted that too.
"Call me anytime, Isla. I really enjoyed working with you, and I feel like we've become friends." Mia spoke genuinely and hugged me like an old friend. Damn, I was so glad I came upon her; it felt strangely calming knowing that there was a good person in my life who seemed to have it sorted out.
Instead of renovating, I decided to just move in for the time being and deal with it all later. A few days after settling in, I was putting away a few groceries when I turned around to see my new, empty home.
I had a bed upstairs, two bar stools that the previous owner left me, a desk, and some books. Those were all my possessions. The movers piled the mountains of Roman’s gifts in a corner, all still neatly in their boxes. I didn’t get around to donating anything, too defeated by life.
Alone, I stood in the middle of the empty living room, all of it blurring. The tears poured out of my eyes, at this point feeling like a natural state of being. I cried all the time; it wasn’t anything new.
I had been here once before—in the middle of an empty apartment, but back then, Roman showed up at my door, changing my life forever. But this time, I knew he wouldn’t come.
My sobs echoed in the empty space, as if repeating to me an inescapable truth—you will never get over this. But just as I was about to head up the stairs, a knock on the door halted me mid-step.
Couldn’t be.
It couldn’t be him. I must have been hallucinating.
It wasn't. I swung the door open to see a man with a thick envelope, his glare expectant and calm. He handed it to me and walked down the hallway and out of view, as if I was supposed to have any idea what this was. He didn’t ask me to sign for it, didn’t ask for my name—he didn’t say a word.
