shuhaige
Chapter 35
“It’s cold. Can you at least let me inside?” I ask, but Chloe doesn’t remove the chain. I can’t say I blame her. I sigh, realizing I’ll have to do this through the crack in the door. “Okay, look. I know this seems bad. Me outside your window, the groceries, all of it.”
“Tell me the truth. How long? How long have you been doing this?”
I consider lying, but I can’t. It’s time. It’s long overdue. “Two years. Ever since your parents’ death.”
She grips the doorframe, and her face goes white. “Two years? Two years what?”
“I’ve been here . . . watching.”
“For two years!”
“Yes, I . . .” I swallow hard. “Yes.”
“What! Standing outside my window? For two years?”
“Yes.
“Why? Why would you do this? None of this is making any sense.”
I take a deep breath, knowing that what I’m about to say will change everything. “I was one of the firefighters that attended to you and your family the night of the car accident. I was the one who pulled you from the wreckage,” I begin. “I held your hand as you slipped in and out of consciousness, promising you’d be okay. And when I found out later that your parents didn’t make it . . . I couldn’t get you out of my mind. It was Christmas, and I knew you’d be alone without them. I didn’t want you to have to be alone and sad and—”
Chloe’s eyes widen, a mix of shock and disbelief crossing her face. “What? No, that’s . . . that’s not possible. I don’t remember . . .”
“You were in shock,” I explain gently. “It’s common for accident victims to have memory gaps. But I remember every detail of that night. Your blue coat, soaked with rain. The way you kept asking about your parents. The fear in your eyes.”
I see tears welling up in Chloe’s eyes, and I ache to comfort her, but I know I can’t. Not yet.
“After that night, I . . . I felt responsible for you somehow. I wanted to make sure you were okay. So I started checking up on you. At first, it was just driving by your house occasionally. Then I found out where you worked, where you liked to get coffee. I told myself I was just being protective, but . . .”NôvelD(ram)a.ôrg owns this content.
“But you became obsessed,” Chloe finishes, her voice barely above a whisper.
I nod, shame washing over me. “Yes. I know it was wrong. I know I should have told you the truth from the beginning. But I was afraid. Afraid you’d reject me, afraid you’d think I was crazy. And then when we actually met, when we started talking . . . I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”
“Stalking?” she asks. “Is that what you’ve been doing?”
I wince at the word, but I can’t deny it. “I . . . yes. I suppose that’s what it was, even if I didn’t want to see it that way. I told myself I was protecting you, looking out for you. But I know now that I was violating your privacy and your trust.”
She shakes her head, tears now flowing freely. “This is insane. You’ve been standing outside my house for two years? Is that what you’re telling me? Two fucking years?”
I shake my head, feeling the weight of my actions crushing down on me. “Not . . . not every night. But yes, I’ve been checking on you regularly for two years. Just to make sure that you were safe. But then . . .”
“But then what?” Chloe demands, her voice rising. “Have you been jacking off outside my window?”
I recoil at her words. “Chloe, no. It wasn’t like that at all. I just . . . I know it sounds crazy, but after pulling you from that wreck, after seeing how close you came to dying . . . I couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to you.”
Chloe’s face is a mix of emotions—anger, fear, confusion. “So what, you appointed yourself my guardian angel? My personal stalker? Do you have any idea how messed up this is?”
I nod, hanging my head. “I do. I know it’s wrong. I’ve known for a long time, but I couldn’t stop myself. Every time I tried to walk away, I’d remember that night, remember how fragile and scared you looked. And then when we actually met, when we started talking . . . I fell in love with you, Chloe. The real you, not just the idea of you I’d built up in my head.”
“Love?” Chloe scoffs, but there’s a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “Are you insane? One, we just met! Two, you are a fucking stalker! How can you claim to love me when everything between us has been based on a lie?”
“Not everything,” I insist, desperate for her to understand. “My feelings for you are real. The connection we have, the way we talk, the way we understand each other—that’s all real. I just . . . I should have told you the truth from the beginning. I know that now.”
Chloe is quiet for a long moment, her eyes searching my face. I can see the conflict in her expression, the battle between her feelings for me and the shock of what she’s learned. Then her eyes widen, and her hand covers her mouth.
“Oh my god. WinterWatcher. You knew about Dark Secrets and my account because you’ve been standing right outside my window the entire time. You knew! It wasn’t by coincidence you found me. You always knew.”
I close my eyes, feeling the full weight of my deception crashing down on me. “Yes,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “I never meant to invade your privacy like that, but once I knew, I couldn’t stop myself from finding you on there.”
Chloe stumbles back from the door, her face a mask of horror and betrayal. “Get away from my house, get off my property, and don’t you ever come near me again.”
I take a step back, feeling my heart shatter. “Chloe, please—”
“No!” she shouts, her voice cracking. “You don’t get to explain anymore. You’ve been lying to me this entire time. You’ve violated my privacy, my trust, everything. How could you think this was okay?”
I open my mouth to respond, but no words come out. What can I possibly say to make this right?
I back away, knowing it’s over. Everything I’ve done, every lie I’ve told, it’s all crashing down around me. As I turn to leave, I catch one last glimpse of Chloe’s face—tears streaming down her cheeks, her expression a mix of fear and fury.
The snow is falling harder now as I stumble down the walkway, the Christmas lights blurring through my rage. Rage and fury at myself. I tried to protect her, to love her, and I’ve only ended up hurting her more. The irony of it all hits me as I trudge through the deepening snow, my heart as heavy as my footsteps.
I make it to my truck, parked around the corner, and slump into the driver’s seat. The engine sputters to life, the heater slowly warming my frozen fingers. I sit there, staring at the falling snow, replaying Chloe’s words in my head.
“Get away from my house, get off my property, and don’t you ever come near me again.”
The finality in her voice, the disgust in her eyes—it’s all burned into my memory now. I’ve lost her. I’ve lost everything.
As I drive away, the snow pelting my windshield, I can’t shake the image of Chloe’s face—the hurt, the betrayal, the fear. What have I done? For two years, I’ve been living a lie. But now, faced with the consequences, I see the truth. I’m not her guardian angel.
I’m her nightmare.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. For a moment, my heart leaps—could it be Chloe? But when I check, it’s a weather alert. Severe snowstorm warning. Stay indoors if possible.
I laugh bitterly. Stay indoors. If only I had done that in the first place, none of this would have happened. I wouldn’t have seen Chloe through her window, wouldn’t have been caught, wouldn’t have had to reveal my twisted obsession.
Maybe I should turn around and be near her house.
Maybe I should park close enough where I can still see her front door.
Maybe I should—
What the fuck is wrong with me? This is how I got here.
I grip the steering wheel tighter, forcing myself to keep driving away from Chloe’s house. Those thoughts, those impulses—they’re what got me into this mess in the first place. I can’t keep justifying my actions, can’t keep pretending that what I’m doing is okay.
The snow is coming down harder now, reducing visibility to almost nothing. I should pull over, wait out the storm, but I can’t bring myself to stop. I need to put as much distance between myself and Chloe as possible. For her sake, and for mine.
As I drive, memories of the past two years flash through my mind. The first time I saw Chloe after the accident, walking down the street, her face a mask of grief. The nights I spent parked outside her house, telling myself I was keeping her safe. The way my heart raced when we finally met by chance.
It was all a lie. Every moment, every interaction, tainted by my deception.
I slam my fists against the steering wheel, letting out a primal scream of frustration and self-loathing. How could I have let things go this far? How could I have convinced myself that what I was doing was right?
I somehow, luckily, make it back to my place, stumbling into my dark apartment, not bothering to turn on the lights. The silence is deafening after the howling wind outside. I shed my snow-covered coat and boots, leaving them in a soggy heap by the door.
I collapse onto my couch, burying my face in my hands, but then pull away and look toward my laptop. I could log on to the nanny cam and check on her. Make sure I didn’t completely freak her out. Just for a second . . .
I shake my head violently, horrified at the thought that just crossed my mind. The realization of how far I’ve gone, how deeply my obsession has warped my sense of right and wrong, hits me like a physical blow.
Grabbing my laptop, I do the first right thing I’ve done in years. Taking a deep breath, I delete the app that is connected to the nanny cam.
I stare at the blank screen, feeling a mix of relief and emptiness. The app is gone, severing my last connection to Chloe’s private life. It’s the right thing to do, I know that, but it doesn’t make the ache in my chest any less painful.
I then log on to Dark Secrets, determined to continue my purge. I can’t be a subscriber any longer to her account. No doubt, she’ll kick me off herself, but the least I can do is save her the time and energy. But as I try to find her name, I notice that she’s no longer active. There is no BlackAsChlo to be found.
I stare at the screen, a mix of emotions washing over me. Of course she’s gone from Dark Secrets. I’ve ruined that for her too. Another safe space I’ve violated and destroyed. The full weight of what I’ve done crashes down on me. I’ve not only lost Chloe, but I’ve taken away her outlets, her privacy, her sense of security. All because I couldn’t control my obsession.
I close the laptop, unable to look at it anymore. The silence in my apartment is oppressive now, broken only by the raging wind outside. It reminds me of Chloe, alone in her house, probably terrified because of me.
I grab my phone, my finger hovering over Chloe’s number. I should call her, apologize again, make sure she’s okay. But I know that would only make things worse. I’ve done enough damage.
My phone buzzes and I see it’s a text from my captain at the fire station. All hands on deck. This storm’s causing havoc. Report ASAP.
For a moment, I consider ignoring it. I’m in no state to help anyone right now. But then I think of Chloe, of how I failed her, of how I’ve betrayed everything I once stood for as a firefighter. Maybe this is my chance to start making things right. At least I can try to do something.