Stalked By A Serial Killer

Chapter Forty-Five: Stupid God Damn Hormones

Chapter Forty-Five: "Stupid God Damn Hormones."

"TYLER?"

"Mmm?"

"Can we have some serious talk?"

"Um, yeah, sure."

I take a large breath, my stomach doing a bunch of somersaults as I plan on discussing what it was that was bothering me so much this past week.

Tyler's arm that was massaging my head stops and tugs at my hair, and I start rubbing circles over his chest, just below where my head rests. His jaw over my head is stiff, but he's always had it that way.

"This has been bothering me for weeks," I begin in a murmur, and hug his chest tighter. "I have so many questions."

His chest heaves. "I'll answer what I can."

I nod, and nibble on my lip as I prep myself for the questions I prolonged a lot longer than I should have. "Why. . . why didn't you show up? I needed you, and you weren't there. Why?"

Tyler doesn't answer.

He's silent, and the only way that was keeping me calm vanishes: he removes his hand that was in my hair. I wince as another cramp presents itself in my abdomen, causing sharp pains in my side. My period has been going on a lot longer than it ever has, and it should already be on a schedule by now. I could predict to the minute on when it would come, except this one. I've never gone past three days, but now I'm on day eight.

I sink further into the sheets and Tyler, subduing some of the pain. Minutes have passed since I asked, and with my mood still being unpredictable, I feel like crying from heartbreak.

I am upset about it, but not enough to the point where I'd be bawling. Which is exactly what is going on right now.

I did need Tyler. I needed him to be there for me, to help me through this hard change.

But he wasn't.

He may have shown up still, but the deed was already done. He showed up when the change was already made. I always wondered what was going on in his mind when I told him that my true identity was going to be nonexistent anymore, but I was too outraged with the fact that he thought I didn't take him into consideration with my decision.

"Say something. Please." My voice cracks at the end. Whether it's me or my cycle, I'll never know.

The silence is making me nervous. What if he never really wanted to be there in the first place? What if he was forced to come and wasn't going willingly?

No. No, Morgan, shut up. This is Tyler you're talking about. Your best friend of nineteen years, and boyfriend of a year and a half. You know every small detail about this boy; there is no way in hell that Tyler wouldn't be there for you. Being there for you is the first thing on his mind. He loves you. You're his top priority.

Then why wasn't he there? Why did he show up after my makeover? Why the fuck didn't he call me or text me?

If I was his top priority, then why wasn't he there? Why did he think that I never put him before myself?

I sacrificed myself last year. I put my life on the line more than once, and I died several times. I risked my life the biggest when Bryce and I attacked the warehouse. His best friend and his girlfriend risked their lives to save his.

Why was it that he 'thought' that I never put him first?

Believe it or not, Tyler's involvement in my choice was the first thing I thought about. I thought about how our lives would play out with me not being–on paper–Morgan Peters. I thought about how it would either fit well into our relationship or cause some issues. I thought about what he would think that if my physical appearance changed, then what was to stop my emotions and mentality from changing as well. He doesn't get it, no matter how many times I try to assure him or explain to him to the best of my ability, that I wasn't being egotistical.