I Didn’t Want To

I Didn’t Want To

August 30, 2025

Freddy offered me his time on the dance floor. From what I witnessed earlier, he was good, but not great. He knew the steps, but had trouble changing the pace when encountering others in close proximity. My friends told me he tries, but never really succeeded for all of his efforts.

I would rather sit this one out, but he was persistent. I offered my hand and began a slow waltz with him.

Perhaps, I should have been more attentive to him. Perhaps, I should have worn dance heels (1” or 2”) instead of my near stilettos (4”). When we made contact with another couple, I lost my footing, but Freddy caught, ensuring continuity. As a couple, we did not stand out while he moved me across the room. I expected as much from a journeyman with a dozen or so years experience.

By the conclusion of the music, he escorted me back to my seat. I was somewhat obligated to offer him the empty chair abreast to mine. It was an awkward few minutes in which he wanted to say something to me, wanting more for me to say something to him. To a passerby, we must have looked like a couple recently divorced who are behaving properly despite years of struggles and deception between us.

“Genevieve.” I gave him my evil eye. “Please excuse me, Miss Monroe. Have you accomplished the tasks you are here to accomplish?”

“What makes you think I am here to accomplish anything other than wishing the recently betrothed couple the very best?”

“Please, Miss Monroe. It is a very rare event in which you are, how shall I say this, exactly as you seem.” As I massaged my heel encased foot, I knew he was correct. However, I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing anything about what I knew. So, I began asking him questions.

“Is your contact the groom?” Freddy nodded to confirm. He could have asked me the converse and I also could have nodded. Neither were necessary for professionals.

“Still planning on using a knife? Such a mundane question he asked. This time, out of professional courtesy, I politely answered, "perhaps". In response, I did not inquire how Freddy would dispatch the groom. I did ask if he would act before or after the guests began throwing rice.

Freddy took a sip of champagne before acknowledging his post departure activity. He understood that we would act in unison.

It took a few moments before the guests began arranging themselves for the rice shower on the steps of the reception hall. Freddy took a position on the left. I took mine lingering behind the couple. In the ensuing chaos, both of us would act and then both of us would become invisible. We are merely specters, seen only once, but never remembered. Today is only the third time I have spoken to Freddy. It most likely will be my last.

I once remembered when my friends called me Linda. I dreamed of a day like today, in which all of my hopes came true, even if only for a single day. I heard my mother speak fondly of such a time in her life, when my father cared, before he spent more time at the bar than at home.

Before the beatings began.

Only the rustle of the bride’s veil brought me back to reality. In passing, I entertained the notion of not acting today or ever. Just walk away and disappear forever. No one would find me. No one knew where to look if they wanted. Genevieve Monroe would become Elizabeth Smith. Gone would be my auburn tresses. Gone would be my constant worries about being on someone’s kill list.

The first scream snapped me back to reality. Freddy stuck the groom and broke the blade. The bride screamed, The people became frantic. Everyone saw Freddy. No one saw me. I inserted the hypodermic needle into the bride’s neck to inject the air bubble into her artery. I held her, not as her killer, but as a maid. Those nearby thought she fainted, thinking of me only as a friend, suspecting me of nothing.

Freddy had to run. I only had to walk. I returned to the reception hall, dropped my gown, combed out the dye from my hair, and exited as a cleaning lady taking out the garbage.

This would be my last contract. I wish my last contract was my last contract. Tears fell down my shirt thinking about my choices in life. A few more tears fell thinking about the life that has no more choices.

I didn’t want to do what I do. Few would understand.

Freddy would, but no others.