Until The Day You Die

I wake up at 3:15 to a text from an unknown number. It was the same message I’ve been getting daily from several different women all claiming to have dated my boyfriend, Jerome Bloomfield: “He’s the best partner you’ll ever have!  He will love you until the day you die!” 

It isn’t just texts. I’ve met some of his ex girlfriends in public. They ask if I know a guy named Jerome Bloomfield and when I tell them that’s my boyfriend, they all act like he’s some god!

“I woke up every morning to breakfast in bed and a foot massage!” One woman said. 

“He texted me every morning just to make sure I got to work safely!” Said another. 

Despite having different things to say about him, they all end their stories with the same 9 words: “He will love you until the day you die.” 

Suddenly, I get a text from Jerome but he quickly deleted it. I managed to read it before it got deleted: “He will love you until the day you die!” 

Why did he send me that? 

The same exact message I’ve been getting from all of these women. 

I start thinking about the fact he’s never around when I’m talking to these women. Even when it’s just a text. He always in his room when I get these texts and his room is somewhere I’m not allowed in. He claims that I’ll leave him if I discover what he has in his room. 

I go on Instagram to check my messages to see if I have anything new just to discover all my messages completely disappeared. 

Last time I checked, I had at least 10 messages from Jerome’s exes. 

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw a silhouette of Jerome by the door. 

“How long have you been there?” My voice, barely a whisper. I feel my whole body tense up as he walks closer to me. 

“Long enough to know you’re starting to catch on.”

“Catch on to what?” 

“Have you ever wondered why I’m never around when these girls talk about me?” My mouth, slightly open yet words can’t escape. 

“I AM those girls. All of them. Even the ones you met in person.” He’s crushing my stomach now but he’s not him anymore. He’s a petite woman with a baby face that I remember was my cashier at the supermarket back in September: Sara. 

“I’ve dated roughly 2,700 girls this year alone and they’re all dead. Remember your friend who was in the news back in April for ‘slipping on black ice and later being found dead in her car at the bottom of Lake Hugo’?” I nod, still unable to feel my body. 

“I did that! I knew the roads were supposed to be deadly. I put enough pills in the coffee I made for her that day that could make her unconscious for several hours. Maybe even permanently.” He laughs thinking about that but I just stare blankly. 

“I threw her in the driver’s seat, put her car in drive and threw a rock on the gas pedal. As soon as her car started to move, it was out of control. Then she got to that patch of black ice and fell off that cliff. I have a video of it! It’s pretty funny if you ask me!” He grabs his phone out to look for the video but I stop him: “I don’t want to see my best friend since middle school get murdered, thank you!” 

As he was reaching for the pillow on my bedside table to suffocate me while still on top of me, we were interrupted by the police breaking down the door. 

“Get off of her and put your hands up where I can see them!” The officer yelled. 

“We had someone call us at 2:35AM to let us know about a serial killer currently residing at this address. We would’ve gotten here sooner but traffic is nasty at the moment.” 

Suddenly, the room goes dark. Quiet. When the light turns back on, I realize I’m all alone. 

I get a text. Unknown number: “He loved you until the day he died.”