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But I think I did it too quickly, and I lost sight of taking it slow. Perhaps it shows my immaturity. Instead of wallowing in my thoughts, I head to the kitchen and grab a mug from the cabinet before setting it under the Keurig. I push the button, leaving it to do its thing.
In the bathroom, I open the tap, washing my hands before grabbing my face wash and squirting a dollop in my left palm. I lather it up before running my hands over my face. Refreshing and cool, the cucumber scent is fragranced over my hands, and I inhale slowly, hoping it will calm my erratic thoughts.
Once I’m freshened up, I grab my now-full mug and settle on the sofa with my laptop and notebook. I have one assignment to finish today before I can go out for a run. It’s one of the only activities I enjoy because it allows me to forget the world and focus on my breathing.
The click of the keys is calming as I work. Time passes, and when my stomach grumbles, I glance at the clock, noting it’s nearly midday. Sighing, I set my computer on the table and stand, stretching my arms above my head. Perhaps it’s time for that run now.
I quickly change in the bedroom and grab my phone and keys, along with my air pods, which I push into my ears and find the playlist I usually run to.
I hit the street. There’s a lunch rush, and I duck down the road and toward the park where there’s a thick crop of trees. The path is clear. The music captures my attention, and I allow my mind to drift away.
As I wind through the thick trunks of the oaks, I smile at the smell of fresh rain now slowly trickling from the clouds hanging overhead. Even though I grew up in a bustling city, I love living in Pine Lake. There’s nothing like the fresh country air and the softness of the land compared to the concrete jungle I grew up in.
When I moved out here, I didn’t expect to love it so much. But as time passed, I found myself falling more in love with the town than ever before. Now I can’t see myself living anywhere else. I take a left and suddenly stop. My body stills, and I pause the music to listen. My ears prick, and a cold shiver races down my spine.
It’s strange, but it feels as if someone is watching me. I spin around, my eyes raking along the path between each of the tree trunks, but I don’t see anyone. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and I shiver even though I’m sweating.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been running, but it doesn’t feel long at all. When the feeling passes, I flick the music back on and decide to head home. It could be nothing. It could just be my mind playing tricks on me.
Being on the run for so long, I’ve learned to be wary, walking on the main street, especially when I’m on my own. But this felt like more than that. I really am convinced I felt someone behind me.
Shaking my head, I make my way out of the other end of the small wood and come out onto the main street, which leads to the apartment block I live in. Pine Lake has a population of a few thousand people. With two hotels and a few bars and restaurants, it’s not the tourist trap that most small towns can be when they’re famous for something in particular.
Thankfully, it’s not that small where everyone knows your name and your business. And even though I may recognize some of the residents I see every day, they’re all focused on their own lives rather than that of their neighbors.
When I reach my apartment door, I see a small package sitting on the welcome mat. Once again, a cold shiver trickles down my back, but I put it off as just the sweat from my run. When I pick up the small box, I notice the card on top. There’s an unfamiliar scrawl of two letters in black that steals my breath.
S.B.
I spin around again, even though I know there’s nobody behind me. My neighbors’ door is closed, and their dog isn’t barking like he normally does when I’m on the landing, so I presume they’ve taken him for a walk.
I unlock the door and go inside before kicking it shut behind me. Dropping my keys in the bowl on the table at the entrance of my apartment, I pick at the ribbon on the box and lift the lid.
Inside, on a silky cushion, sits a gold bracelet with a rose pendant. What the hell? The card doesn’t have anything more than the initials on the front. This doesn’t make sense. If it was him, it would be weird, because how would he know where I live?
