Page 36 of Ruin Me Gently

“We agreed to stay up. This is staying up, “I sighed. My eyelids had been replaced with bricks and my knees popped loudly as I stretched my legs out. “If anything’s going to happen, it’ll be soon. This is prime creepy stalker activity time.”

“You seriously think he’d show up now?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I don’t actually know what time he’s been doing all of this. It varies. But this is textbook Clark behaviour. The dead of night, weird vibes, the kind of time you’d regret not locking your doors.”

“If I go missing because of this, will you please use a hot picture of me for the press?”

“Sure thing,” I said, ruffling her hair as I pushed up from the couch, dodging her half-hearted swat. “Come on, emergency caffeine time.”

We shuffled into the kitchen, feet dragging against the floor.

Molly slumped against the counter like she physically couldn’t hold herself up, yawning so hard her jaw cracked. “Do we even remember how to make coffee at this hour?”

“Push the buttons, pray for magic,” I replied, grabbing two mugs and jabbing at the machine until it spluttered to life. The hum and gurgle of it working almost made me emotional.

Molly rummaged through the fridge, emerging with the carton of oat milk. “I don’t know why you drink this stuff. Real milk exists, you know.”

I shot her a pointed look. “Molly, I want to spend tonight catching Clark. Not actively shitting my pants because I’ve decided to ignore my lactose intolerance.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You eat cheese though?”

“Some things are worth the pain,” I said with a shrug.

She snorted, shaking the carton.

The coffee machine beeped, and we both lunged for our mugs at the same time, our knuckles bashing together awkwardly before we raised them in a toast.

“To catching creepy exes,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“And to keeping all bodily functions in check while doing so,” I added with a smirk.

We flopped back down onto the couch, coffees in hand. The TV flickered softly, but I barely paid attention. My attention was elsewhere.

On the side table.

On the gun.

My fingers tightened around my mug as I stared at it, the weight of what I was planning pressing down on me almost too intensely.

“You’re really gonna do this, huh?” Molly asked.

“Yeah,” I said quietly, setting my mug down and leaning forward.

“Are you sure it’s gonna work?”

“Yeah,” I said again as I picked it up. “I’m sure.”

The truth? I had no idea if it was going to work. Just like I had no idea where the burst of confidence had come from. Maybe it wasn’t confidence at all, just exhaustion disguised as bravery. But for once, I wasn’t second guessing myself, and that felt right.

I turned it over in my hands, the metal cool in my palms as I inspected it like it was some rare artefact, something powerful and dangerous, yet strangely comforting.

Molly shifted beside me. “This isn’t reallylikeyou, Lils.”

“That’s the point,” I said as I aimed it toward the empty pizza box on the table, heart thumping as my finger hovered over the trigger. My breath caught as I squeezed.

A sharp click.

Then afwoosh.

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