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The man's heart pounded in his chest as he sprinted down the busy Dallas street, weaving through the swarm of pedestrians like a snake through tall grass. Sweat poured down his face and his breath came in ragged gasps, but he couldn't slow down – not now. She was leaving tonight, sooner than he'd expected. He had to get her today.
"Excuse me! Sorry!" he panted, shoving past a couple who glared at him in annoyance. He didn't have time for their judgment. The weight of his mission bore down on him like an iron anchor, dragging him forward with an urgency that left no room for social niceties.
"Liars and cheats," he muttered under his breath, the words coming out as little more than a growl. "Fake narcissists, all of them."
It wasn't just her; it was everyone. The whole city seemed to be crawling with people living double lives, pretending to be something they weren't. It made him sick. But he couldn't think about that now; he needed to focus on his target.
"Watch it, buddy!" snapped a man in a suit as the two collided, jostling each other off balance for a moment. The man barely registered the encounter, already scanning the street ahead for any sign of her workplace.
"Almost there," he told himself, gritting his teeth and pushing his body harder. He could feel the strain in his muscles, the burn that threatened to overwhelm him, but he refused to let it slow him down.
"Can't stand liars," he thought again, repeating the mantra that had kept him going all these years. "People who live double lives...I'm not like them."
He knew he was different, honest, and true in a way that so few people ever were. He would see this through to the end, no matter what it took. And as he finally rounded the corner and spotted the cafe where she worked, his resolve hardened even further. She would not escape him. She would pay for her lies and deceit, just like all the others had.
"Today," he promised himself, eyes locked on the waitress through the window. "I'll get her today."
The sweltering Dallas sun beat down on his back as he navigated the crowded sidewalk, but he could barely feel it through the thin fabric of his gloves. He wished he didn't have to wear them, but it was a necessity; his skin couldn't handle direct sunlight for long periods without becoming unbearably painful.
"Excuse me," he muttered, sidestepping around a woman pushing a stroller. The gloves made him stand out in the heat, but he couldn't go without them. It wasn't like he was hiding anything, he told himself. It was simply a matter of self-preservation.
"Hey, you dropped your wallet!" called a passerby, waving the black leather billfold in the air.
"Thanks," he said, snatching it from the stranger's grasp and continuing on his way. His heart pounded in his chest, threatening to burst free at any moment. He couldn't afford any more delays – she might leave before he got there.
"Stupid condition," he thought, cursing his luck. If it weren't for the sensitivity of his skin, he wouldn't need these gloves or any of the other precautions that slowed him down, that made him conspicuous. But there was no use dwelling on it. He was born this way, and there was nothing he could do to change it.
As he finally arrived at the cafe, he took a deep breath and tried to steady his racing thoughts. This was it. The moment he'd been waiting for, planning for, for weeks. He could see her through the window, chatting with customers, completely unaware of what was coming.
"Liars, cheats, all of them," he muttered under his breath as he slowed to a stop outside the cafe. He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his gloved hand and steadied himself against the brick wall, his chest heaving. "But not me. I'm the real deal."
Through the window, he spotted her – the waitress, a woman of about twenty-five with long, dark hair and a smile that could light up a room. She was laughing, wiping down tables, and flirting with customers in equal measure. It made his stomach churn with disgust. She had no idea the life she was about to ruin when she eloped with her teacher tonight.
"Pathetic," he growled, watching her closely as she moved through the crowded dining area. "They're all living a lie, but not me. I see right through them."
"Excuse me, sir?" A voice interrupted his thoughts, causing him to flinch. It was a young woman holding a paper cup of steaming coffee. "You've been standing there for a while now. Are you waiting for someone?"
"Uh, yeah," he replied, trying to sound casual as he peeled himself away from the wall. "Just catching my breath."
"Okay, well, have a good day!" she said cheerfully, walking away with a bounce in her step.
"Damn it, focus!" he scolded himself as he watched her disappear down the street. He couldn't afford any distractions right now. He had a job to do.
"Can I help you?" The waitress' voice rang out as he pushed open the door to the cafe. Her eyes met his, and for a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of recognition before she quickly masked it with a warm smile.
"Uh, yeah, just a coffee," he stammered, trying to act normal. She nodded and reached for a cup, her fingers brushing against his as she handed it over. He tensed, but forced himself to maintain eye contact.
"Great," she said, smiling back at him. "Enjoy your coffee."
"Thanks," he replied, forcing a smile of his own. "I will."
As he sat down at a nearby table, his thoughts raced. He knew he needed to get her alone, to confront her before she had a chance to leave with her lover. But how? His eyes darted around the room, searching for inspiration.
"Sir?" The waitress was standing by his table, holding out a small plate of pastries. "Would you like one?"
He looked up at her, feigning surprise. "Oh, um, sure," he said, reaching for a croissant. "Thanks."
"No problem," she replied, flashing that disarming grin again. "Let me know if you need anything else."
