Chapter 24 Guess Who
GUESS WHO
This bitch thinks she can take everything away from me and get away with it.
I’ve been following her. Stalking her every move.
I know where she goes, what time she leaves, what car she drives, where she parks, who she talks to.
I know her routine better than she does because she’s careless and comfortable and doesn’t know that someone is watching.
But I’m always watching.
Tonight I watched her get into his car. I watched them drive to that lounge on the nice side of town.
I sat outside for two hours in the dark with my headlights off and my heart beating so fast it hurt.
Two hours of imagining what they were doing in there.
Were they laughing? Were they touching? Was she giving him that smile I’d seen through the restaurant window all those weeks ago?
And then some man I didn’t recognize stumbled out of the lounge with a busted lip and blood on his shirt.
And I thought, good. Maybe the night went bad.
Maybe they fought. Maybe she’d come out alone and get in a cab and go home by herself and I could stop feeling like the walls of my car were closing in on me.
But no. They came out together. Side by side. He opened her door. She got in. And they drove to her apartment. I followed them from a distance because I’ve gotten good at that. I know how many car lengths to keep. I know which lanes to use so my headlights don’t show in his mirrors.
They went upstairs together. His Maybach sat on the street for hours. I sat across from it for every single one of those hours, watching her window, watching the light behind the curtain, watching it eventually go dark.
He didn’t leave.
He stayed the night with her and something inside of me snapped so quietly that I almost didn’t hear it. It wasn’t loud or dramatic. It was a small sound, like a thread breaking. The last thread holding me to the version of myself that was willing to just watch.
I’m done watching.
She took something from me and I’m going to take everything from her. Not tomorrow. Not next week. When she least expects it. When she’s the most comfortable she’s ever been. When she thinks she’s finally safe.
That’s when I’ll remind her that she’s never been safe.