"So, you guys had a fight?" Lizzy asked, massaging my scalp. After all the flour from the Nick fiasco, my hair was so coated I had to undo my braid.
I was lucky Lizzy came over to help when I was struggling with my hair. She'd initially hesitated, citing tiredness, but eventually agreed when I pleaded.
"I wouldn't call it a fight," I corrected Lizzy.
"Whatever it was, why didn't you end up in bed?" Carrie's voice came through Lizzy's phone, clearly disappointed.
Lizzy had called Carrie as soon as she realized I had a story to share and put her on speaker.
"You two are overreacting," I said, trying not to scoff at their dramatic reactions. It wasn't my first time falling in love! Their excitement was palpable, and I had to endure their gushing and swooning.
"And it's too soon for that. We just met and barely know each other," I added quickly.
"What do you mean 'too soon'? Haven't you heard the saying, 'Your soulmate is everyone you meet'?" Lizzy said, her massage growing more intense, making me wince.
"She's right. It's not like you haven't noticed he's into you," Carrie said.
"But liking someone and being attracted to them are different. I'm not into casual flings," I countered.
"You're overthinking it and letting fear hold you back. Sometimes you just have to let go and enjoy the moment," Carrie urged.
"Yeah, we're not saying you have to marry him. Let things flow naturally. Ever heard of 'love at first sight'? Love has no timetable," Lizzy added.
I grimaced at their advice, reluctantly admitting they had a point. I realized I was afraid of taking risks and stepping out of my comfort zone, fearing it meant losing control of my life. That's why I valued my friends—they kept me grounded, even when their words were hard to hear.
"Okay, ladies. As much as I'd love to chat, my predator is on the move, and I need to stay alert. Catch you later to spill all the details. Love you!" Carrie's voice cut off abruptly, leaving us in surprise.
"I didn't expect her to be that serious about her 'predator,'" I mused, looking at Lizzy's phone.
"You know how Carrie gets when she sets her mind on something. She hates losing, but she hates not having what she wants even more," Lizzy explained.
"Do you think she's serious about this guy?" I asked, sitting up straight and adjusting the towel wrapped around my head to catch the drips.
"She's putting in more effort than with anyone else, so maybe," Lizzy speculated as she tidied up the area where she'd washed my hair.
"Maybe..." I agreed, settling back on the couch. "It seems likely, considering how her style has changed. Her crop tops and short skirts are gone, replaced by more modest choices."
"And her behavior too. Lately, she's been acting strangely. I've caught her reading—not just browsing, but studying—the Bible. It's not a bad thing at all, but it's definitely unexpected. She's even started asking me about religious topics, which is a shift," I added.
"Love can really change people," Lizzy remarked.
"Let's hope this flame burns bright and long for both of them," I sighed.
"To be honest, I think she should stay the way she is—free to mess around with whoever she wants, no strings attached," Lizzy said, grabbing the remote and flopping onto the couch, switching on the TV. Her statement caught me off guard, considering she was in a serious relationship.
"Trouble in paradise?" I quirked an eyebrow. It wasn't lost on me how often she'd furrow her brow during long phone calls and sometimes ignore certain calls altogether.
"We're fine," Lizzy muttered, her gaze fixed on the television, but it was clear she wasn't. Sensing her hesitation, I counted silently to three. Sure enough, before I hit one, she turned towards me, unleashing her pent-up frustrations.
"Can you believe it? I'm his girlfriend, and he can't even do this one simple thing for me. What's the harm in going to couples therapy?" Lizzy huffed, taking deep breaths as she confided in me. "And you know what his reason is?" She paused, mimicking her boyfriend Nial's voice.
"I just don't think it's necessary. If we can't solve our problems on our own, maybe we're not meant to be together."
Ouch.
I winced, imagining how Lizzy must have taken that. She's a strong personality, used to being in control, heard, and usually right. Despite her assertiveness, Lizzy is also a great listener, open to feedback and constructive criticism once you get to know her.
"Can you believe that? Maybe we're not meant to be?" Lizzy scoffed, standing abruptly, grabbing her phone, and retreating to her room, leaving me behind.
Carrie and I were used to Lizzy's occasional outbursts; her temper was no surprise. When she argued with Nial, she'd rant all night, threatening to break up with him. At first, Carrie and I would console her, but to our dismay, they'd reconcile soon after, leaving us feeling like we were meddling.
We learned to step back from their relationship's ups and downs, offering support but not pushing for decisions. Lizzy had to find her own way, and we were there for her when she needed us.
As Lizzy walked away, I sighed. She often put up a strong front, but I knew her struggles ran deep.
I decided to take a shower, reflecting on the day. The memory of Nick and I sharing a kiss lingered, and unlike before, I felt content. It was a beautiful feeling that stayed with me.
As I applied lotion, memories of our first handhold and the promise of something new filled my mind. Lost in reverie, my phone buzzed, snapping me out of my thoughts.
What's happening to me? This isn't like me at all. I returned the lotion bottle to the cabinet and changed into my pajamas before heading to bed.
Carrie called to let me know she wouldn't be home tonight, and Lizzy went to stay with her boyfriend. This is exactly what I meant earlier—never get too involved with other people's love lives.
So here I am, alone at home.
As I settled onto the bed, I picked up my phone to check for messages. I was hoping to hear from Nick, but instead, I was taken aback by a message from my old nightmare, Harry. My heart raced as I read the words on the screen, unsure of what to make of them.
Unknown: Hi, It's me, Harry. You might be surprised by how I got your number, but I really worked for it. You have no idea how long it took me to write this message. I apologize for approaching you in that manner earlier; I should not have done so, but I hope we can talk. I won't ask for anything else except to talk.
The message should have made me sigh in relief or react differently since it posed no malice or harm, but it had the opposite effect. I was truly naive to think I had overcome my fear when I stood up for him earlier today, because the moment I read that text, sirens blared in my head and the world froze.
Questions raced through my mind: How did he get my number? Did he know I was home alone? Why now, at this hour?
I tried taking deep breaths to calm myself down, but the reminder that we live in the 21st century, where anyone can obtain someone's number, including through stalking, only heightened my unease.
I knew I was probably overthinking, but I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Though no one was physically present, the memory of past experiences and their lingering impact on my life sent shivers down my spine.
My phone!
My hands trembled as I hastily reached for my phone and dialed the first number that came to mind.
"Hello," a familiar voice on the other end said, calming my racing heartbeat.
"Hello, beautiful, are you there?" His voice brought a sense of security, as if all my worries vanished in an instant.
"Yes, I'm here," I replied, barely audible. There was a brief silence before Nick spoke again.
"Are you okay?" His worried tone caught me off guard. I hadn't expected him to sense anything was wrong.
Was everything okay with me?
For years, everyone had asked me that question, and I had always answered yes. It was the easiest way to reassure those who cared about me and to avoid dwelling on my own struggles. But now, hearing it from him, it made me pause. Should I reply the same way I always did?
Yes, I'm fine, and swiftly move on to the next subject?
Deep down, though, I knew I wasn't truly okay. Miss Emma, my psychologist, had been right all along.
'I don't want to tell my friends and family about this. They were so worried when everything went down, and I don't want to put them through that again,' I had told Miss Emma in one of my many sessions with her
'Then confide in a stranger,' she suggested.
"A stranger? Why would I do that?" It seemed like a ridiculous suggestion.
'Because a stranger has no preconceived notions about your past or future. Despite many people claiming to dislike small talk, research shows that talking to complete strangers can actually benefit our mental well-being.'
"Hello, Maddy. Are you still there?" Nick's voice jolted me awake from my trance. I shook my head to clear the fog and replied, "I'm sorry, I'm not okay. I'm alone in the house, and my thoughts are racing. I'm afraid, and I feel like crying now."
"Hey, hey, hey!" Nick's reassuring tone interrupted my spiraling thoughts.
"Take a deep breath. Inhale slowly... exhale. Good. It's okay to feel afraid and to cry. Sometimes, letting it out can help." His words were a lifeline in the overwhelming silence.
"Can I come over to your place?" It was a plea tinged with vulnerability.
There was a brief pause, filled with the weight of my admission. Then Nick responded warmly, "Of course, Maddy. Come over whenever you're ready."
Arriving at his door, a wave of relief washed over me. Nick opened it with a reassuring smile, silently inviting me into the comfort of his home.