Page 150 of Texting Dr. Stalker

X:I had to work, I’m so sorry, but I checked in on you using the video feed that the local fairgrounds have on their website. Your stall looked busy, and I’m glad you had your friend to help. I know I’ve been unfair the past few days. If I have to be honest, which I suppose I have to, thanks to that stupid clause, I wasn’t prepared for how much this would affect me and…I’m not doing so good. No one has ever asked to take care of me before. I didn’t think I needed anyone. But then you came along.

I kept scrolling, searching for more.

He couldn’t end the message there.

What the hell?

Me:You’re speaking as if you’ve made up your mind never to see me again.

I held my breath, sitting in my car like a weirdo in front of my house. I pleaded with everything that he’d respond and—

X:I didn’t want to do this so soon, and I feel like I’m letting you down, but…I can’t be your watcher anymore, Lori. You’re healing. You’ll be fine without me. I contacted you to help you breathe again, but now you’re somehow stealing all my air. It’s best for both of us to end this.

Me:And if I don’t want to end it?

X:You’re on the mend. I’m no longer needed.

Me:But what about you? What doyouneed?

X:It doesn’t matter what I need. This was never about me. I’ll keep watch in the distance and if you fumble, I’ll make sure to send help your way, but you won’t see me again.

Me:So you’re going to outsource my healing to someone else?

My teeth ground together as I added:Don’t you think that’s a bit pompous? To think I’d even want your help after you’ve decided to break up with me without talking face to face?

X:We weren’t together, and I’m doing you a favour. We both knew this would end eventually.

Me:No, we don’t know that. How about you tell me who you are and let me decide. Just tell me the truth. Are you a convict? Did you do something bad in a past life? Do you have twenty children from ten marriages? What? Why are you so convinced that I won’t accept you if I know who you are?

X:Goodbye, Lori.

A small cry escaped me as the final message glowed like a death sentence.

Tears tracked silently down my cheeks, half from anger, half from loss.

I wanted to message him back, begging him, threatening him, but in the end, I sent nothing at all.

* * * * *

On Monday, after attacking my house with sandpaper and paintbrushes all morning, I took a break to check the mail. I hated that my heart skittered with hope that X would’ve sent me another gift. That he’d message me and admit he wanted me. He’d tell me his name. He’d confess he wanted to be with me as much as I wanted to be with him, and we’d ride off into the sunset together.

But that was fiction and this was reality, and the fact was…I hadn’t slept last night. I’d lived in twitchy anxiety, listening to my house cool, feeling the presence of my nana even though the TV didn’t turn on.

I’d scolded her for that.

I’d sat in the dark with my wonderful kitten purring on my lap and told a ghost off, all because she’d turned the TV on the second X had kissed me. The curtains had fluttered, and the house seemed to sigh with relief as if it’d been holding its breath just waiting for that kiss.

I didn’t appreciate her playing games with me or making it seem as if X had her approval from across the grave. He was a stranger. A liar by his own admission of non-admission.

I’d even blindfolded myself to make him feel safe, yet he hadn’t let down his guard. He’d refused to sleep with me. I’d practically had to force him to let me take care of the agonising need in his voice.

Feeling him come had done something irrevocable to me. It’d been the first time I’d felt true power over a man—not because I held his most vulnerable part but because of the way he’d surrendered to me. For a few precious moments, he’d given every piece of himself to me, and now he’d taken those pieces back and left me with nothing.

No face to remember.

No name to whisper.

He’d appeared like a ghost and vanished like one, and I flatly refused to be haunted by him any longer.

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