You Deserve to Die Alone Novel – I had just bought a bottle of sleeping pills when the B-list starlet who made the headlines for kissing James showed up at my door. I’d heard people who die in their sleep are happier, so I figured I’d give it a try. Turns out the flashy, arrogant little starlet knocked on my door and announced that James was taking her skiing in Switzerland. She said she was there to pack his bags. But… James hadn’t lived here in a long time. And there was nothing he’d need to pack for some secret overseas rendezvous. I thought about it, then let her in. I even kindly made her a cup of coffee. Ten minutes later, staring at the woman peacefully asleep on my couch, I took a photo and sent it to James. “If only one of us can live, you and me, who will you choose?” … James made it from the north side of the city to the south side mansion in under thirty minutes. I suspect he nearly burned out the engine on his new sports car.
The moment he walked in, he was a mess, sweat beading on his forehead. “Where is she? Emily! What did you do to Sophia?” I sat there leisurely holding my coffee, watching him panic, the corner of my mouth curling into a sneer. So her name was Sophia. I’d seen her on some TV show a few days ago. What was it called? Oh, right. Love Defense. Guess she was so deep in character she decided to bring her defense right to my doorstep. I heard James had paid a fortune to get her the lead role in that show. I swirled my coffee gently, my eyes locked on James. “You haven’t answered my question yet.” James pressed his lips together, walked over, and picked up the woman from the couch.
When he looked at me, his eyes were dark and complicated, with a faint, unnameable hatred. “Emily, what did you give her?” I stared blankly at the liquid in my cup and said quietly, “The same thing I gave myself. Just coffee.” Then I raised the cup to my lips. James’s face went pale. He dropped the woman, lunged at me, ripped the cup from my hands, and smashed it on the floor. “Emily! Are you insane? If you want to die, don’t drag innocent people down with you!” “Innocent?” I asked flatly. “Is it innocent to show up at my door just to tell me you’re taking her skiing, then waltz right in to pack your bags?” I tilted my head and gave a small laugh. “James, don’t you remember? People who cross me never end up well.” James seemed to remember something. He went stiff. He should. At ten, after James’s father died, my father brought him home. He was withdrawn.
Some boys in the neighborhood chased him, calling him a parasite. That night, I poured paint all over their front door. From then on, those boys crossed the street when they saw us coming. At fourteen, the school bully cornered James behind the school and beat him up. I waited three days on the bully’s street. Finally caught him drunk and cracked his head open. I only remember my sleeve soaked in blood. When I got home, James stared in shock. I just laughed and said, “He won’t mess with you anymore.” At seventeen, some rich girl four years older took a liking to James. Suddenly, I became the target of every little clique at school. My books and pens would go missing. My desk was always a mess. Once, when I was walking alone, some creep followed me… Later, I tracked the rich girl through her social media, got photos of her checking into a hotel with some strange man, and sent them to the guy her family wanted her to marry.
I didn’t waste a second. In the end, the engagement fell apart, and the rich girl wasn’t so rich anymore. Because I’d gathered evidence of tax evasion and reported her family’s company under my real name. Yes, my name is Emily. But I’m not sweet. I’ve always held grudges. I never forget. Except for James. With him, I softened. Again and again.