Page 56 of Texting Dr. Stalker

Rubbing my mouth, I added, “It’s why she doesn’t say two words to me these days when at least before we’d share pleasantries. I found myself in her garden before I realised I was even walking over there.” My voice thickened into a growl. “Every atom inside me wanted to grab her in a hug and hold her. To promise that he’d never lay another finger on her, but…I can’t. I’m the link to all her nightmares. Not only is she living in a house where she was hurt but every time she sees me, she remembers why. No wonder she seems to be getting worse.I’mthe one making it worse. It’s my fault and—”

“Stop right there,” Colin snapped. “None of this is your fault, and to say so is egotistical and robbing her of her justified trauma. Stop making this about you.”

I swallowed hard and nodded. “I know that. Itoldher that. I ran before I could make things worse. But…I need to stop this, right? I need to never message her again because if she keeps sharing things with X only to find out it’s me? I could truly do some damage.”

I looked up, silently begging him for a solution even though I’d sat up most of the night trying to figure out a way to stop her from feeling this way and somehow find a way to help her as myself and not some faceless stalker.

I exhaled hard as Colin sat down, chewing the inside of his cheek, deep in contemplation.

I whispered, “I gave her the phone to help, but I think I’m making shit worse.”

His eyes shot to mine. For a second, I thought he’d rat me out, but then he swooped from his chair and marched to a cabinet full of drawers.

Opening a few, he rummaged inside. Grabbing some boxes and bottles, he returned to his chair, then dumped the supplies on the table before me.

I scowled. “What’s all this?”

“Tricks of the trade so she’ll never know it’s you.” Crossing his arms, he shrugged. “I agree that she can never know. Not with her associating you with what happened. You’re her trigger, Zan. And if she ever suspects she’s sharing her darkest secrets with you, you’re right, you could make shit a lot worse.”

I groaned and raked my fingers through my hair. “Then I’ll stop. Right now.”

Almost as if she’d felt my decision on whatever strings linked us, my phone chirped in my pocket. The same chirp I’d assigned to her.

I stiffened.

Colin raised an eyebrow. “I’m guessing that’s her by the way you’ve frozen.” Arching his chin at me, he ordered, “Read it. What does it say?”

With jittery fingers, I shifted on the chair and fished my phone from my pocket. Swiping on the screen, I pursed my lips as her text appeared.

Lori:I don’t know what it says about me, but…I’m not mad at you for appearing in my garden. I can’t believe I’m going to admit this, but…I actually slept better than I have in a while, all because you were the last man I saw before going to sleep instead of the memories of what happened.

Groaning, I couldn’t make eye contact with Colin as I read it aloud. By the time I repeated it to him, another chimed into my inbox.

Lori:I’m sick of feeling like this. This depression isn’t me, and I refuse to let him take away my happiness. I haven’t been outside in weeks because I’m afraid. I can’t relax inside because I’m afraid. I need to start living again. If you’re still offering to watch over me, I want to tell you everything. But in order to do that, I need your word that you won’t judge me or pity me. No matter how honest I get.

Colin sucked in a breath as I relayed the second part of her message. I felt like I betrayed her all over again for sharing something so personal.

My shoulders slouched as exhaustion cloaked me.

Neither of us spoke.

Nodding once, accepting what he’d tell me—to refuse her request and cut all ties—I pressed my thumbs against the screen to tell her I couldn’t do this anymore.

“Wait.” He held up his hand and shook his head. “You can’t.”

I scowled. “Can’t what?”

“Turn your back on her the moment she’s agreed to accept your help.”

“Are you forgetting the shitstorm this could cause?”

“I’m aware.”

“If she finds out it’s me—”

“We’ll make sure she doesn’t.” Tossing me a box, he went cold as if preparing me to go into battle. “Black hair dye, a fake eyebrow piercing, and prescription-coloured contacts.”

“Wait, what?” I wrinkled my nose. “What are you saying?”

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