Jonathan Moore, formerly known as Joe Goldberg, had secrets. Everyone knew that. Everyone had secrets. Whether they were just small things from the past or whether it was genuinely the worst thing they have done in their life— everyone had secrets. And nobody can blame people for that. You just want to keep things to yourself. That’s fine. But not when you’re hiding the fact that you have disposed of over ten people in the past.

He’s lost count on it, actually. He knows it’s not a lot— nothing that goes to the extremes of Hannibal Lecter or Dexter Morgan, but he’s still out there terminating people.

And he wanted to turn over a new leaf. He wanted— so desperately— to forget about all the bad things he’s done. Eliminating his wife. Abandoning his son. Committing horrible crimes all under the name of Joe Goldberg. But now— new identity, new name, new country— he can get a hold on himself and be new.

Be better.

He let Marienne go. Because, who truly wants some library worker from a suburban dream? She was only a distraction from Love— and not a very good one at that.

You were so much better.

Why didn’t he come to London sooner? Why didn’t he let himself journey to England instead of Los Angeles a couple of years ago?

He had seen you once when he was applying for a job at Darcy University as a Literature professor, talking with one of the other professors. Maybe it was Malcom. Maybe it was someone else. He wasn’t sure.

Because he was so focused on you.

And he wasn’t sure what it was about you. Maybe it was the way you smiled. He always found himself attracted to pure people— and you seemed to fit directly into the criteria.

And here you are, coming into his office, book in hand as you stepped in. Why were you here? Maybe you wanted to welcome him in? He wasn’t too sure what exactly to think of it all.

But you were coming to see him.

And he knew: you were the one.