She sent me a voice memo this morning.
Soft, sleepy, half-laughing.
“Thanks for the flowers. I’ve never had a date that didn’t make me want to fake an emergency.”
I replay it twice. Once for the tone. Once for the inhale, she takes in the end. That little breath that tells me she wants more but doesn’t know how to ask for it.
I text back something casual.
[8:07 AM] Glad I could raise the bar. Next time, I’ll ruin you for good.
Then I tap the “send gift” button on her wishlist. She now has a new limited-edition gaming headset being sent express, and I also place an order with her favorite dispensary to drop off something pretty and potent before noon.
Let Trip send her thirst traps and mystery.
I’ll give her something she can hold in her hands.
The problem with Trip is this. Hethinksobsession makes him dangerous.
But obsession makes himvisible.
I know every move he’s making. Every grunt he lets into the mic. Every time he pauses too long while Lydia talks.
He hasn’t changed.
Still the same brooding, violence-addicted brute I worked with back in that shithole op outside Kyiv. Always thought he was better than the rest of us because he hesitated before pulling the trigger.
But hesitation doesn’t save people.
It just gets them killed.
Like the girl in Cairo.
Trip still brings her up, last time we talked years ago, quietly, like it haunts him. Like, I was the monster for not freezing when she ran.
He never understood; her intel was poison. She was going to compromise the whole op.
I didn’twantto kill her.
But I had to.
Trip? He wanted to save her. Because she smiled at him. Because he thought she could berehabilitated.
Just like he thinks Lydia can berescued.
But Lydia doesn’t need saving.
She needs someone who understands how to break her without her realizing it. How to control her without it feeling forced.
And most importantly, how to make herchooseit.
[1:03 PM]
Me: You said you hated people, but you smiled all night.
Lyd: You’re not people.
Me: Then what am I?