Part one is here

Part two is here

Part three is here

Part four is here

 

“Why didn’t you just say you needed space. I thought you liked how close we were.”

“I do, I do, I love you, you know that, it’s just sometimes I want to do something on my own.”

“Yeah, but why that? That, I thought, it was special, you know, something we did together, date night, you know?”

Her voice had gone quiet, and winsome, and she saw by his face that he had known it was wrong. He shook his head.

“I just, I didn’t know how to tell you, without you being hurt.”

“Oh, so this is better, is it, getting hurt by finding out that you’re cheating on me?”

“You should be grateful I’m not fucking them! Christ, it’s just a bit of casual murder, it’s not like it’s anything serious.”

He was shouting at her, and she shied away, putting her hands up. He came towards her, his own hands held out.

“Aww, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shout, really. Look, how about if I promise I won’t do it again?”

She looked at him, the tears coming now, unbidden and unwanted.

“Do you mean it?”

“Of course I do. God, you mean so much more than them, they were nothing, really.”

His hands rested on her cheeks and she let him turn it upward, his lips pressing against hers. She sighed, and relaxed against him, wrapping her arms around his chest and feeling safe, protected. As his lips moved to her neck, she whispered in his ear.

“Do you want to go out tonight? We could find someone, you could bring your knife…”

He moaned into her neck and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

 

It had been good, for a while then, like a second honeymoon. Then it happened again. This time she had no patience, and confronted him immediately, but his response was entirely different. It was like he didn’t care anymore, like he couldn’t be bothered to make it work. She asked him to leave, and he told her that if she kicked him out, he’d go to the police. She’d threatened him in return, and he’d slept on the couch.

It wouldn’t matter which of them grassed on the other, they’d both go down. So the months went by, lying side by side in a cold bed, washing two sets of clothes with different blood stains. There was pleasure in it still, for her, but the joy was gone, the feeling that they could do anything, go anywhere. They still went out together occasionally, on special occasions. She got him a dancer for his birthday, and he brought her the most lovely garrotte, with these curved wooden handles, for their Christmas kill. The months became years, the body count grew, and they drifted further and further apart.

 

The final straw was their anniversary. It was the sixth, and the first one he missed. He came home late to find her sitting in the lounge, the candles long burned out, the cheerleader face down on the floor, axe buried deep in her back. She didn’t speak, just went upstairs, not letting him see the tears. Strange, she thought, as she listened to him dragging the body out the kitchen door, the things that matter when nothing does. There was no reason to be upset, not really. But she was. She liked to think it was the dinner that sat wasted on the kitchen table, or maybe the champagne that was flat, and had cost more than she liked to think about. But the truth was, he just didn’t love her anymore.

So she’d set the trap. He’d come into the kitchen from the wrong direction and she had been so sure he’d see the ropes. But she’d shouted, and he’d turned, and she pulled the handle, and just like the guy online had promised, up went David, trussed nice and tight.

She’d expected to hesitate, that it would be difficult somehow, but as soon as he started bleating, saying sorry for this and sorry for that, it was easy.

 

She stepped out of the shower, stretching and feeling like a new woman. The chains she hadn’t known she was wearing had fallen away, and the future was full of opportunity. She wondered into the bedroom, smiling as she heard the gentle dripping still coming from the kitchen. Getting dressed, her eyes never strayed from the bedside table. She pulled open the drawer and took out the plane ticket, one way. She’d heard America welcomed anyone willing to work hard, and make a name for themselves. She grinned, grabbed her suitcase, and picked up the matches.