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Her hands are still shaking when we’re in the car, and she’s fidgeting nervously in her lap, staring out the window when Christopher starts the engine to bring us home.
“What was that all about?” I ask. “What was your ex-boyfriend doing there?”
Did she lie to me and it was him she was going to see and not her old teacher? I don’t want to believe that’s true, but I can’t shake the suspicion. I need her to tell me that that’s not what this was about.
“I don’t know,” she mutters in a low voice. “He just showed up.”
Her gaze remains lodged to the window, as far away from me as possible.
“Look at me.”
She sighs, but turns around to face me, a shadow of sorrow cast over her pretty face, blended with a hint of worry.
“I really don’t know, okay?”she snaps. “I came out the door and ran into him. I have no idea why he’s stalking me—”
“He’s stalking you?” Idemand. “Why the hell did you not tell me about this?”
“I didn’t know!” She raises her voice. “He claims he wanted to check up on me, and saw now other way than to come by, because I blocked him everywhere. He has no way of contacting me, which apparently he took as an invitation to just follow me around. It’s not my fault he’s such a fucking psycho!”
She’s tearing upasshe speaks, almost yelling as the words pour out of her.
I believe her, though. Iwantto believe her.
“And speaking of people manifesting out of thin air, what the hell wereyoudoing there, anyway? Do you not trust me?” She churns, her lips quivering. “Did you come there tocheck upon me as well?”
She puts air quotes to her last question, adding a taste of reproach to her words.
I frown at her, wary as she tries to turn the tables on me.
“Oh, excuse me for trying to do something nice!” I retort. “I came to pick you up. It was supposed to be a surprise. You looked a bit distressed this morning before you left…”
That’s only partly true. Idohave a surprise for her, but me showing up unannounced wasn’t it. I don’t know why I asked for Christopher to come and get me so I could see her a bit earlier. I guess it really boils down to just that: I couldn’t wait to see her. And I can’t wait to show her…
I can’t tell her any of that, of course.
She surveys me for a moment, a faint line emerging between her brows.
“It was a surprise alright,” she murmurs. “And I’m sorry you had to witness… that.”
“Me too,” I say. “I didn’t know you were dragging this kind of baggage with you.”
She frowns at me. “This kind of baggage?”
“An ex who’s stalking you,” I say. “You never mentioned him.”
“That’s because there’s nothing to mention,” she argues. “We broke up more than three months ago, because he cheated on me. I broke off all contact after that. I just told you, I blocked him everywhere. We haven’t spoken since the day I moved out. I had no idea he was still thinking of me, let alone trying to contact me.”
She pauses and deflates with an exasperated sigh. “I just want to forget about him. Can we just stop talking about this? It was nothing, really. He is nothing.”
“Sure,” I say, suggesting a nod. “Just one more thing.”
She tilts her head to the side and regards me with an inquiring albeit slightly miffed look. “Yes?”
“What did he mean when he said ‘what kind of shit did you get yourself into this time’?” I ask. “What was he talking about?”
“Nothing,” she replies, a little too hastily. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Well, the way he phrased it made it sound like you’ve gotten yourself into trouble before. What happened?”
