The Pretend Boyfriend novel Chapter 81

So she's trying to play normal and nice-like. He can live with that. To refuse her would be to trigger off some complex thought process in her tangled brain, and she would irrevocably take it out on Sam. He hates being blackmailed like this. Hates having his strings jerked around by this vicious puppeteer.

But he has no choice.

So he says, as casually as he can muster, even though all his senses are on full alert for the tsunami that would hit him: "Sure."

She turns, expecting him to follow without a word. So he is to be her lapdog. This makes him unspeakably gloomy.

There are already two place settings on the kitchen table. Neat, as to be expected. Not a napkin out of place. A pot of artificial flowers forms the centerpiece of the table. The entire kitchen is filled with the smell of just-fried bacon, and this is what Delilah places in front of him as he seats himself. A plate of bacon, just crispy at the edges, with two eggs sunny side up, and a dollop of baked beans.

Just like that. As if they are a couple.

"Go ahead, eat," she urges him. She places a similar plate, only with half the servings, in front of herself.

He wonders if she has drugged his food again. But he eats anyway, eyeing her out of his feral green eyes. She eyes him too, like an adversary across the table.

When he finishes, he says, "I've got to be going."

"Don't go so soon. I took a day off just for you."

"Maybe you should cancel," he says acidly.

"Tell them my period pains went away? Not likely," she replies.

He sighs. "What else do you want with me, Adie?"

"Don't call me by that name. I hate that name."

He is taken aback by the vehemence in her voice.

"Sorry ... Delilah."

He wonders why she hates it so, and if it has to do with him. Perhaps it's a name she associates with her attempted suicide. The one she exorcised when she emerged - scathed and filled with the new power of rage - as a new woman.

This disturbs and saddens him. It's amazing how much pain he can cause and how he had been totally oblivious to it.

I was young! I was heartless!

Him entering a restaurant.

Him hailing a cab from the entrance of a hotel.

It's shocking to see himself mounted like this - the subject of an unhealthy obsession. For that is what it is - an obsession. He recognizes it for what it is.

His heart sinks when he now realizes the depth of it.

He's not certain everything will go to plan now, or as Adie - sorry, Delilah Faulkner - outlined it. People this obsessed did not let go that easily. And he's not even certain what he can do about it. He can only do his best to ensure there will be no more repercussions ... on Sam.

As for himself -

It is not the court case and judgment he is dreading now. It is the next two weeks. What does Delilah's twisted mind have in store for him? What will she make him do? Blood churns in the abyss of his rolling gut, and he feels like running to the bathroom to heave out his breakfast. But she will probably take offense to that and make things worse.

It's terrifying - not knowing what she would do next. It's like being trapped in the same room with a hornet, bracing yourself for its inevitable sting.

He can't take his eyes off his photos. He recognizes every one of them, dating back two years ago. Before Sam. During Sam. Pieces of his life, all chronicled in haphazard detail in someone else's pain scrapbook.