Page 97 of He Sees You When You’re Sleeping

Chapter Thirty-Five

Jack

“It’s cold. Can you at least let me inside?” I ask, but Chloe doesn’t remove the chain. I can’t say I blame her. I sigh, realizing I’ll have to do this through the crack in the door. “Okay, look. I know this seems bad. Me outside your window, the groceries, all of it.”

“Tell me the truth. How long? How long have you been doing this?”

I consider lying, but I can’t. It’s time. It’s long overdue. “Two years. Ever since your parents’ death.”

She grips the doorframe, and her face goes white. “Two years? Two years what?”

“I’ve been here . . . watching.”

“For two years!”

“Yes, I . . .” I swallow hard. “Yes.”

“What! Standing outside my window? For two years?”

“Yes.

“Why? Why would you do this? None of this is making any sense.”

I take a deep breath, knowing that what I’m about to say will change everything. “I was one of the firefighters that attended to you and your family the night of the car accident. I was the one who pulled you from the wreckage,” I begin. “I held your hand as you slipped in and out of consciousness, promising you’d be okay. And when I found out later that your parents didn’t make it... I couldn’t get you out of my mind. It was Christmas, and I knew you’d be alone without them. I didn’t want you to have to be alone and sad and—”

Chloe’s eyes widen, a mix of shock and disbelief crossing her face. “What? No, that’s... that’s not possible. I don’t remember...”

“You were in shock,” I explain gently. “It’s common for accident victims to have memory gaps. But I remember every detail of that night. Your blue coat, soaked with rain. The way you kept asking about your parents. The fear in your eyes.”

I see tears welling up in Chloe’s eyes, and I ache to comfort her, but I know I can’t. Not yet.

“After that night, I... I felt responsible for you somehow. I wanted to make sure you were okay. So I started checking up on you. At first, it was just driving by your house occasionally. Then I found out where you worked, where you liked to get coffee. I told myself I was just being protective, but...”

“But you became obsessed,” Chloe finishes, her voice barely above a whisper.

I nod, shame washing over me. “Yes. I know it was wrong. I know I should have told you the truth from the beginning. But I was afraid. Afraid you’d reject me, afraid you’d think I was crazy. And then when we actually met, when we started talking... I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

“Stalking?” she asks. “Is that what you’ve been doing?”

I wince at the word, but I can’t deny it. “I... yes. I suppose that’s what it was, even if I didn’t want to see it that way. I told myself I was protecting you, looking out for you. But I know now that I was violating your privacy and your trust.”

She shakes her head, tears now flowing freely. “This is insane. You’ve been standing outside my house for two years? Is that what you’re telling me? Two fucking years?”

I shake my head, feeling the weight of my actions crushing down on me. “Not... not every night. But yes, I’ve been checking on you regularly for two years. Just to make sure that you were safe. But then...”

“But then what?” Chloe demands, her voice rising. “Have you been jacking off outside my window?”

I recoil at her words. “Chloe, no. It wasn’t like that at all. I just... I know it sounds crazy, but after pulling you from that wreck, after seeing how close you came to dying... I couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to you.”

Chloe’s face is a mix of emotions—anger, fear, confusion. “So what, you appointed yourself my guardian angel? My personal stalker? Do you have any idea how messed up this is?”

I nod, hanging my head. “I do. I know it’s wrong. I’ve known for a long time, but I couldn’t stop myself. Every time I tried to walk away, I’d remember that night, remember how fragile and scared you looked. And then when we actually met, when we started talking... I fell in love with you, Chloe. The real you, not just the idea of you I’d built up in my head.”

“Love?” Chloe scoffs, but there’s a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “Are you insane? One, we just met! Two, you are a fucking stalker! How can you claim to love me when everything between us has been based on a lie?”

“Not everything,” I insist, desperate for her to understand. “My feelings for you are real. The connection we have, the way we talk, the way we understand each other—that’s all real. I just... I should have told you the truth from the beginning. I know that now.”

Chloe is quiet for a long moment, her eyes searching my face. I can see the conflict in her expression, the battle between her feelings for me and the shock of what she’s learned. Then her eyes widen, and her hand covers her mouth.

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