"Here you go."

  I gently pced the hot, medium-rare steak onto the dining table in front of Gaby.

  "Dios Mio! Daeron, it smells and looks absolutely delicious!" she gasped, her voice pitching up with genuine, innocent excitement. She stared down at the pte like it was a five-star meal.

  "Please. Enjoy it, babe."

  Gaby. Stop. Don’t do this.

  My internal monologue was screaming at her from behind a thick, soundproof gss wall. I was watching my own body move on autopilot. I was recreating the exact same dinner, at the exact same table, using the exact same recipe I used to make for Jessica. I was seamlessly sliding a completely different girl into the empty space she left behind.

  Gaby cut a small piece of the steak and took a bite. Her brown eyes widened in delight. "Hm-mph! This is incredible! You really know how to cook!"

  I chuckled, a smooth, practiced sound, and sat down opposite her. "I can only make pasta and steak, babe. That's my absolute limit."

  "But still, this is the best steak I've ever had in my life!"

  "I’m gd you like it." I reached across the table and poured a generous measure of dark red wine into her crystal gss. "Here’s your wine."

  "Oh... um, I've actually never drank wine before, Daeron," she said, looking nervously at the gss.

  "Trust me," I murmured, leaning forward and resting my arms on the table. "It will complete the taste of the meat perfectly. You just have to pair it right."

  Gaby. Please. Don’t drink it. I am corrupting you.

  She hesitated for a long moment. She looked at the dark alcohol, then looked up at my warm, encouraging smile. Her trust in me overrode her hesitation. She picked up the gss and took a small, careful sip. "Mm-mp... it actually tastes really good!"

  "See? I told you to trust me."

  Gaby…

  She nodded happily, completely oblivious to the monster sitting across from her, and continued enjoying her meal.

  We finished the steak and emptied the bottle of wine. While she ate, the alcohol loosened her tongue. She excitedly told me stories about her freshman csses, her annoying dorm roommate, and her mundane hobbies. I maintained unwavering eye contact. I nodded, smiled, and asked follow-up questions at the exact right moments.

  But behind my eyes, there was absolutely nothing. I didn't hear a single word she said. I didn't give a fuck about her roommate.

  When dinner was over, I took the empty ptes and carried them to the sink. She immediately stood up, offering to help wash them, but I gently pushed her back toward the living room. I insisted on cleaning up myself. I wanted her to feel special.

  "So, did you enjoy it?" I asked, drying a pte while she sat on the sofa, finishing the st drops of her wine.

  "Yeah! I loved the steak and the wine. Thank you so much for doing this, Daeron!"

  I draped the towel over the counter, walked over to the sofa, and looked down at her. "It’s getting pretty te. Do you want to just stay the night here?"

  Her pale cheeks flushed a deep, beautiful crimson. "Can… can I really?"

  I stepped behind the sofa and embraced her, wrapping my arms around her shoulders and resting my chin against her neck. "My door is always open for you, babe." I pressed a slow, deliberate kiss against her warm skin. "Want to go cuddle in the bed?"

  She nodded eagerly, a dopey, wine-drunk smile spreading across her face. Cute.

  We retreated to the bedroom. I pulled the heavy duvet over us, and she immediately curled into my side, resting her head comfortably against my bare chest.

  "Daeron.."

  "Yes?"

  She tilted her head up, looking at me through the shadows of the dark room. "I…. Can I call you ‘baby’?"

  I chuckled, my hand zily tracing circles on her bare shoulder. "Of course, babe. Come here."

  Her eyes sparkled with pure, unadulterated adoration. She leaned up, pressing her soft lips against mine.

  The gentle, domestic kiss quickly escated. The wine had completely melted her shy boundaries, and her breathing grew violent and heavy as she pressed her body flush against mine. After a long, breathless moment, she pulled her lips away, hovering just an inch above my face.

  She looked deep into my eyes, her heart hammering against my chest.

  "Baby, I lo—"

  Pure, blinding panic seized my throat.

  No! Before she could finish the sentence, I crushed my mouth against hers, violently devouring her lips to physically gag her. I shoved my tongue into her mouth, completely silencing the words.

  I couldn't hear it. Jessica had never said those words to me. If Gaby said them now, the entire hallucination would instantly shatter.

  My hands aggressively mapped her body, forcefully shifting the dynamic from romantic vulnerability to pure, raw lust. I dragged my lips away from her mouth, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down her jawline and attacking her neck. She let out a loud, helpless moan the second I sucked a bruise into the soft skin just below her ear. Leaving a mark for everyone would see, that she was mine.

  Gotcha. Now I knew exactly where her physical weakness was.

  That night, we ended up having sex again. It was as if stealing her virginity hours earlier hadn't been nearly enough to satisfy the void in my chest. This time, she enjoyed it much more, writhing beneath me, though she still whimpered helplessly whenever I ruthlessly upped the tempo.

  But I didn't slow down. I ignored her whimpers. I didn't care about her comfort or her feelings. I just closed my eyes, ruthlessly upping the tempo, chasing the physical exhaustion and the heavy, blinding dopamine hit that kept my agonizing reality at bay.

  **

  My eyes snapped open in the dark.

  A soft, warm weight was draped across my chest. I looked down. Gaby was sleeping peacefully, her cheek resting over my heart, her arm holding me tight. The glowing red numbers on the nightstand read 6:00 AM. I stared at the clock, my chest tight. I never woke up this early. During the winter, it was always Jessica who woke up first. I would wake up to the smell of her cooking breakfast.

  Fuck. What kind of monster am I?

  I carefully untangled myself from Gaby’s limbs, sliding out of the bed. I pulled the heavy duvet over her bare shoulders to keep her warm. I walked out into the dark kitchen, grabbed a cold beer, and stepped out onto the freezing balcony.

  I threw myself onto the floor cushions and lit a cigarette with shaking hands.

  I miss you, Jess. I don’t want to be doing this. I feel like a fucking psychopath. I hate this empty life.

  The first pale light of dawn began to bleed across the Chicago skyline. I closed my eyes, letting the bitter winter wind hit my face. Instantly, the memories flooded my brain. Her loud, infectious ugh. The cold touch of her fingers on my neck. The heavy scent of her vanil perfume. The sheer gravity of her presence in the room.

  The memories were agonizingly vivid. They were cold, and they offered no actual comfort, but holding onto them was the only thing that made me feel anything close to happiness.

  I opened my eyes, took a deep, dragging pull of my cigarette, and blew a thick cloud of white smoke out over the railing.

  I think this is it, Jess, I thought, my chest hollowing out. Goodbye. For now.

  I stood up, walked back inside the loft, and slid the heavy gss door shut. I turned the deadbolt, physically locking the balcony—and her ghost—outside in the cold.

  I walked into the kitchen and immediately began recreating the illusion.

  I pulled flour, eggs, milk, butter, and vanil extract from the cabinets. I heated the skillet and began cooking pancakes. I was literally stealing Jessica's morning routine, desperate to keep the domestic bubble intact.

  "Good morning, baby."

  I turned around. Gaby was standing in the hallway. She was wearing my oversized gray hoodie, her dark hair messy from sleep. I forced a charming, effortless smile onto my face. "Morning, babe. Take a seat. I made you pancakes."

  "Wha—" Her sleepy brown eyes widened in shock. "Daeron! You're spoiling me!" She hurried over to the kitchen isnd, looking at the fresh stack of food. "Let me make you breakfast! You already cooked that amazing steak for me st night."

  I chuckled, setting the spatu down. "It’s already done, babe. Don’t worry about it. Come on, sit down."

  Her face fell slightly, an innocent look of guilt crossing her features. "Then I will definitely cook dinner for you tonight. I promise."

  "So, you’re pnning to stay here again tonight?" I asked, leaning casually against the counter.

  "No… I mean, I'll just make you dinner ter and then head back to my dorm," she stammered, looking down at her hands.

  I let out a low ugh. "You can stay here as long as you want, Gaby."

  "But—"

  Before she could finish, I reached into the junk drawer, pulled out the cold metal of my spare key, and slid it across the marble counter. "Here. Take my spare key. You can stay here whenever you want." I reached across the isnd and affectionately patted her dark hair.

  She gasped, her eyes shining with absolute joy. She rushed around the counter and threw her arms around my waist, hugging me fiercely. "Thank you… I’m so happy to be staying with you, baby."

  I hugged her back, staring bnkly at the kitchen wall. We sat down and ate the pancakes. It was a perfectly pleasant, domestic morning. But the food tasted like ash. She was a warm, loving person, but my skin was freezing cold. She was sitting right in front of me, completely devoted, but I had never felt more isoted in my entire life.

  Can I really keep living this lie?

  *

  After breakfast, we drove to campus together. When my afternoon lectures ended, I helped her pack up a few duffel bags and officially move her essentials into my loft. She was practically glowing with happiness.

  But the moment she started unpacking, the illusion began to violently fracture.

  Gaby was incredibly tidy. It was a jarring, terrifying contrast to Jessica. Jessica used to leave her clothes draped over the sofa, her textbooks scattered across the coffee table, and her makeup covering the bathroom sink. Gaby meticulously folded her clothes, arranged her toiletries in a neat row, and spent an hour cleaning the living room.

  The loft was spotless. Jessica's messy ghost was completely erased.

  Panic set in. To drown it out, we hung out in the mini-library, and just as she promised, she cooked me dinner. Afterward, I dragged her into the bedroom.

  The sex became incredibly rough. The sweet, gentle romance of the previous night was entirely gone. I was chasing a phantom high, using brutal physical intensity to try and force my brain to feel something.

  She was startled at first, her body tensing under the sudden violence. But when she met my eyes, looking at my gentle mask, she forced herself to adapt. She swallowed her fear and surrendered to it, taking the pain and aggression as a sign of my overwhelming passion.

  But when I colpsed next to her, breathing heavily, I still felt completely hollow.

  For the next two days, the cycle repeated. A pristine, tidy apartment by day, and savage, violent sex by night. I pushed every single physical boundary we had. I choked her, I bruised her hips, I even pushed for anal, desperately trying to shock my nervous system back to life. She eagerly submitted to all of it, whispering my name, begging for more, terrified that if she said no, I would pull away.

  But it didn't work. The physical friction meant absolutely nothing. My body was completely exhausted, but the gaping, bleeding void in my chest remained entirely unfilled.

  **

  Another freezing morning rolled by.

  I woke up, my senses slowly coming online. My nose twitched. The distinct, sweet, overwhelming fragrance of vanil was drifting into the bedroom from the kitchen.

  Jess??!

  My eyes snapped open. My heart hammered against my ribs. I threw the heavy duvet off and practically sprinted down the hallway into the open kitchen.

  "Morning, baby!"

  I froze. Gaby was standing at the stove, wearing my gray hoodie. She gave me a warm, bright smile over her shoulder. Sitting on the marble counter next to her was a small, open bottle of vanil baking extract.

  Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! The cruel hallucination shattered into a million pieces. It wasn't Jessica's perfume. It was just baking supplies.

  I swallowed the sickening lump of disappointment in my throat and forced a charming smile onto my face. "Morning, babe."

  "Give me just a minute. I'm almost done with the pancake batter. Take a seat, baby."

  Bzzt! Bzzt! My phone vibrated aggressively in my sweatpants pocket. I pulled it out and saw Nikoy's name fshing on the screen. Needing an escape from the kitchen, I walked out onto the freezing balcony, pulled the gss door shut to block out the vanil smell, and answered.

  "Derro. Where are you?" Nikoy asked.

  I blinked. His tone was dead serious. There was no chaotic Russian greeting. There was no booming ughter. It was the voice of a guy who knew something was horribly wrong.

  "I'm at the loft, Broda," I answered cautiously. "Are you guys already back from the road trip?"

  "Yeah. We are back. Are you okay?"

  The weight of his question physically pressed down on my chest. I wanted to tell him I was dying inside. "…. Yeah. I’m completely fine."

  "… Let’s meet up tonight. At my pce."

  A spike of defensive hesitation shot through my veins. I didn't want to face them. If I faced them, I would have to admit out loud that I was a pathetic, discarded side-piece. "Heh. Alright. I’ll try to swing by ter if I have the time, Broda. Right no—"

  "Seven o'clock," Nikoy interrupted, his voice dropping an octave into an absolute command. "If you are not sitting on my couch by 7:00 PM, Boris is going to drive to your loft, kick your door in, and physically drag your ass here. Come early if you want, Derro."

  "Hey, dude, listen to me—"

  "I will be waiting for you tonight, Derro." Click. He hung up.

  Damn it. I lowered the phone, staring out at the city skyline. There was absolutely no point in trying to avoid them. Nikoy's intuition was terrifyingly sharp. But beneath my defensive annoyance, a small, genuine flicker of warmth sparked in my frozen chest. They actually gave a shit about me. I was gd I was going to see those bastards.

  "Is something wrong, baby?"

  I slid the door open and walked back inside. Gaby was already waiting at the dining table, a pte of fresh pancakes set in my usual spot.

  "No, it was just Nikoy. He demanded I meet up with the crew before 7:00 PM tonight."

  "Will you come back here ter?" she asked, her brown eyes radiating deep, innocent concern.

  I smiled, walking behind her chair and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Of course I'll be back, babe. I live here. Let’s eat now. It looks delicious."