Page 108 of Hayden's Stalker

A couple of emails later, this line hits me. I hate it. I haven’t chosen this person. I don’t even know who they are, and I know that I would never willingly be with them.

Stay strong, my love. It is only a matter of time before we can live our lives together, love as deeply for one another as we do, and laugh together in joy for the rest of our lives.

I hate how certain they are that they’re going to be with me. It’s terrifying, and I’m more grateful than ever that both Tati and Jesse are watching me 24/7 to keep me safe.

Every day I will worship you as the god you are, for I am the blessed person who is consecrated to be by your side. We will rule our domain, and those around us will envy our love, for it is so precious and pure that none other could possibly achieve it.

I can’t tell if the emails are getting worse, but this one is so delusional that it truly makes me worry that they’ll kill me as some kind of way for us to be together in whatever heaven they envisage. All the other emails just made me scared that they were going to try and take me away, but this one brings a very visceral fear for my life. Still, I hand the phone back to Tati and keep reading, despite how awful this is, because I need to know.

So knowing that we are still on our path toward happiness gives me immense joy, and I hope that knowing we are going to be together will bring you joy, too.

It doesn’t bring me joy. It brings me terror. It brings me resentment. It brings me hatred, sadness, concern, and a million other emotions, all warring for prime place as the one I feel the deepest.

I jiggle my leg as I hand Tati’s phone to her, and she pulls up an email before handing me back as she says, “This is the last one. You got it two days ago.”

I have imagined many times the ways in which I can pleasure your body with mine. Of how it will be when you give yourself to me and I give myself to you. When we truly become one, it will be glorious and magical.

Nausea comes back with a raging vengeance, and I have to truly fight not to barf all over Tati’s bed. I know people fantasize about us. I’ve seen thirst posts online, so it’s a bit hard not to. This is just so incredibly foul, though. The thought of this person who has forced their way into my life, and is threatening to somehow take me away so we can ‘be together,’ masturbating while thinking about me is disgusting.

I hand Tati’s phone back to her without saying anything, and she looks worried as I meet her gaze. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I guess,” I murmur, unable to say much more because the nausea is overwhelming.

“I didn’t want to scare you. I just wanted you to understand that it’sbecauseI care for you that we have to pretend. If you were anyone else, I wouldn’t spend every waking minute terrified that you would be hurt. I would just know that I could keep you safe, and I would do that.”

I swallow heavily, finally truly understanding why she keeps telling me we can’t be together, and I nod. “I get it. I’ll see you when we reach the venue for the soundcheck, I guess.”

I stand, bend over to pick up her empty bowl without thinking, and my stomach roils. I leave her room quickly and rush to the sink, where I splash my face with water and take some deep breaths before I rinse the bowl clean.

I flop back on my bed, my mind full of the disgusting things my stalker has been emailing me when my phone lights up next to me, and I look down to see a text from Harrison.

If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to.

I realize I never got around to replying to his message, and he’s clearly taken it as a sign that I don’t want to talk. I unlock my phone and flick to the messages app before I type back.

I met the perfect woman, and I can’t be with her. FML.

I don’t feel like reading right now, so I check my email instead. As I scroll through them, another text from Harrison shows up on my screen.

Just know that I’m here to talk if you do.

I frown because it’s a weird response to what I admitted to him, and I click on the notification, taking me to our messages.

Why would you feel guilty about it?

If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to.

Just know that I’m here to talk if you do.

I frown at the three messages, confused about where the fuck the message I just sent him went, until the horrifying realization crashes over me of exactly where it went. I back out of Harrison’s messages, and I don’t even need to open Tati’s to see the offending message on the screen in our chat history.

My blood runs cold, and I can’t believe I fucked upagainwith Tatiana Swanson. I type out a quick message to her.

Fuck. I meant to send that to Harrison. I repeat, FML.

She starts typing the moment the message shows as read, and when it comes up, I groan.

I’ll pretend I never saw it. I’m good at pretending. Right now, I’m pretending I didn’t meet the perfect man.

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