Bound Eternal - Part Four
The Fear of Love
If you haven’t read yet start here on PART ONE ^
THE FEAR OF LOVE
Donny started saying “I love you” before she asked.
He said it when Emma woke up, before her eyes even opened. He said it when she went quiet and the silence stretched on too long. Donny would say it when her gaze fixed on him in a way like she was dissecting his thoughts, searching for cracks in something she already owned.
The words came easy now. Too easy. They slid out of him smooth and automatic, like breathing in air for survival.
Emma noticed. She always did.
But she never answered right away. She let the words hang in the air until the quiet turned unbearable. She loved to watch Donny squirm, letting the panic bloom behind his eyes. Only when his pulse gave him away—when she could see the fear—did she smile and return the words?
Then she’d touch him like a loyal pet.
“Good boy,” she’d whisper, her breath warm against his ear. And Donny couldn’t tell if he was being loved or trained. “You’re sweet when you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared.”
She didn’t argue. She didn’t have to.
Donny’s stomach twisted on the days she played her quiet games. He learned to keep his eyes closed even when he wasn’t asleep. He rehearsed conversations before speaking, trimming thoughts down to what felt safe. Compliments instead of questions. He rewired himself completely, more than he ever had to in prison, and that scared him worse than anything.
Sex turned strange and mechanical. Sometimes she stopped him mid-motion, made him hold still, her fingers digging into his jaw.
“Say it.”
“I love you,” he gasped.
“Again.”
He obeyed.
After she would lie beside him and talk about nothing. Commercials she hated. Couples she despised. The emptiness of other people’s lives. Donny nodded at the right moments, his body buzzing with leftover fear.
“You ever wonder,” she said, tracing the scar on his shoulder, “what it would take for you to stop loving me?”
He froze.
“That’s not how it works,” he said carefully.
She turned to face him, eyes bright in the dark. “You didn’t answer.”
“I don’t want to think about it.”
She smiled, satisfied, as if he’d given the correct response.
“Good,” she said. “Because I don’t think you’d like the answer.”
He took a deep breath, but inside he screamed. He told himself this was love. Intense love. Dangerous love. The kind people wrote songs about and warned each other against.
“Do you still love me?”
“Of course I do,” he replied almost automatically, followed with a simple, “I love you.”
She studied him, silent for a beat too long. “Then let’s have some fun.”
“What kind of fun?” he frowned.
“The kind we used to have,” she said, voice soft but trembling with excitement. “But different, okay. No robberies. Let’s evolve together into the next phase of our relationship. We pick someone up. A couple, maybe. Swing a little. See what happens. And then…” she trailed off, smiling faintly. “Then we finish it. Together.”
“Finish it together?” Donny sat up, heart pounding. “Like us?”
“What? No!”
“Them? Emma, that’s not—”
“Don’t say no,” she interrupted, her tone suddenly childish. “You always say no lately. You pull away. You think I don’t notice, but I do.”
He stared at her, trying to read the line between fantasy and threat. “You’re talking about killing people.”
“Not people. Just… someone. Someone who doesn’t matter. Someone who won’t be missed. It’s the truest form of our devotion to one another.” She tilted her head. Her voice was calm, almost tender. That scared him more than if she’d screamed.
“Emma,” he said carefully, “you don’t need to prove anything to me.”
“I’m not proving anything. I’m reminding you. We’re different, you and me. We don’t just love—we test it.”
Her wide-eyed smile said it all.
“Okay.” He nodded his head and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Give me a few days and we can do this. Because… I DO love you.”
Tomorrow, he’d call an old friend. Someone who knew how to make problems disappear. This wasn’t love anymore. It couldn’t be…
