* * *
She didn’t outright say so, but I know my story made her happy. I think I’m onto something here. She wants me to feel things, and this, I can feel. I’m thinking I need to do something special for her. I’m thinking about my next kill, and when I might have time for it. That’s the thing I was angry with you about earlier, well, that, and your lies. You have your work, and I’m glad. But where does that leave me? I’ll tell you. It leaves me with everything else. And it turns out, everything else is a lot. I’m all over the place. It’s not the way it used to be—killing, I mean—not now that I have a family. Not with the kids in school, and life being so hectic, not with you being gone so much. Carving out time for myself is like pulling teeth. That’s why I’m not happy. Something has to giv
