Should have known better

3 Why?

Abby didn't understand why K was doing this to her. He was keeping her as his prisoner, drugging and raping her. She was lucky in that he didn't beat her or starve her. She was fed everyday at least once. He installed a bell that he rang remotely when it was ok to take a shower. Abby imagined that someone else must be in his house and he didn't want them to hear the water. After a few days, during one of her lucid moments, Abby asked K the reason that he was doing this to her.
K brought in dinner. This time it was a chef salad, a welcome change from burgers. Abby ate slowly. Still feeling nauseous. It must be whatever drugs he is slipping me, she thought. She knew either her food or drinks were spiked, but she had to eat and stay hydrated.
"I feel sick. Whatever you are giving me is making me sick," Abby told him. "Maybe you're pregnant. Ha ha ha," he jokingly replied.
Abby didn't laugh. "And I haven't taken my blood pressure pills or my anxiety meds since you brought me here," she said. "Maybe that is making me sick."
"You're fine. Now, eat," he demanded.
Abby put down her fork. "Why?" she asked. "Why am I here? Why are you doing this to me? You didn't have to lock me up and drug me to get me to have sex with you."
K stared at Abby. "You would never have come."
"You don't know what I would do! You don't know anything about me!" Abby screamed.
"Do you remember when you would get hang-up calls at night? That was me. Do you remember when someone keyed your asshole husband's truck? That was me. Remember when roses showed up with a blank card? That was me. Remember the black jeep that sat in the vacant house driveway down the street? That was me. I sat there day after day and watched you. I know you had a little Yorkie that disappeared from your yard. That was me, too. I know you have a pink nightgown. I know you like to watch TV before you go to sleep. I know that you prefer baths over showers."
Abby could feel the tears welling up. She remembered all those things and more. There were so many unexplained things that had happened over the last 20 years. Her husband had come home drunk one night and started to beat her. The police showed up out of nowhere. "Did you do that?" She asked.
"Yes," he replied, "Every time I saw him lay a hand on you, I called the cops. I keyed his truck and flattened his tires. I even called the whore he was seeing and told her that he had herpes. I filed an anonymous complaint at his work."
By now, it was all starting to make sense. "But, why, K? We weren't together. My life was none of your business. I never asked you to do all those things. Why?"
K was silent. He never answered her questions. She asked if there was someone else in the house. Did anyone know he was keeping her here?

Finally, she broke him down and he started to answer her. K said he just wanted another chance. He missed having her to talk to. He missed their phone calls. He missed the excitement of sneaking around. He missed everything about her. For twenty years, he had followed her and spied on her. He had stalked her. 

As the night wore on, Abby started to see how absolutely pathetic K was. He was not able to move on. He wanted to keep her in his life. He wanted to have her to himself and only him. Abby knew her only chance of getting away was to gain his trust. And the only way to get his trust was to slowly warm to his advances and cooperate.