Sorry guys😔. I mistakenly deleted this chapter. Hope you guys enjoy the book😊.
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The morning sunlight streamed through Emma's curtains, casting a golden glow over her small apartment. She hadn't slept again, her mind racing with every possibility, every shadow that seemed to loom larger than it should. It was no longer a question of coincidence. Ethan was following her—she knew it, and it terrified her.
She sat at her kitchen table with her laptop open, a half-empty cup of coffee beside her. Her notebook lay next to it, detailing every encounter with Ethan.
"Enough," she muttered to herself, opening a new tab.
She typed in the name of the local police department and scrolled through their website. Her hand hovered over the phone number listed under "Non-Emergency Contacts."
Lisa's voice echoed in her head: Trust your instincts.
Before she could second-guess herself, she picked up her phone and dialed.
"Hello, this is Officer Ramirez with the City Police Department. How can I help you?" a calm voice answered.
Emma swallowed hard. "Hi, I—I think someone is stalking me."
The officer's tone immediately shifted to one of concern. "Okay, ma'am, can you tell me more about what's been happening?"
Emma took a deep breath and began explaining everything: the frequent "coincidences," his behavior at the coffee shop and bistro, and how he had appeared at the grocery store the night before. She mentioned the notebook and how she had been documenting everything.
"Have you told him to stop contacting you or made it clear you're not interested in interacting with him?" the officer asked.
"No, not explicitly," Emma admitted. "I've been trying to avoid him, but it's like he always finds a way to show up."
"Understood. The first step is to establish clear boundaries. If you see him again, make it clear that you don't want any contact with him. After that, if he continues, we can discuss filing a restraining order. In the meantime, keep documenting everything and try to vary your routines."
Emma nodded, even though the officer couldn't see her. "Thank you. I'll do that."
"If you feel unsafe at any point, don't hesitate to call 911," the officer added.
When Emma hung up, she felt a flicker of relief. It wasn't much, but it was a start.
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Meanwhile, Ethan was meticulously combing through Emma's social media accounts, trying to piece together her life. He'd noticed that she hadn't posted anything new in a few days, which frustrated him. How was he supposed to stay connected to her if she kept shutting him out?
He stared at her profile picture—a candid shot of her laughing in a park. He loved that photo. It was so natural, so... her.
Ethan leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. He didn't understand why she was pulling away. Didn't she see how much he cared?
But then again, maybe he'd been too subtle. Maybe she didn't realize how deeply he felt for her.
"I'll show you," he murmured to himself, a faint smile curling his lips. "I'll show you how much you mean to me."
He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a small, wrapped package. Inside was a delicate necklace with a tiny pendant shaped like a heart. He'd bought it weeks ago, imagining the moment he'd give it to her.
Ethan's heart raced as he grabbed a pen and a piece of paper. He began writing a note, his handwriting careful and deliberate.
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That evening, Emma returned home from a walk to clear her head. As she stepped into her apartment building, she noticed something unusual in her mailbox—a small package.
Frowning, she retrieved it and climbed the stairs to her apartment. Once inside, she set the package on the table and stared at it. There was no return address, just her name written in neat, unfamiliar handwriting.
Her hands trembled as she opened it. Inside was a necklace and a folded note.
The note read:
Emma,
I saw this and thought of you. You deserve something as beautiful as you are.
Yours,
E.
Emma's stomach turned as she dropped the note. She didn't need to guess who it was from.
Her breath came in shallow gasps as she stared at the necklace. This wasn't admiration. This wasn't a crush.
This was obsession.