I try to shake the feeling, forcing myself to focus on Christina, who’s already laughing and stirring her latte. But the buzzing in my ears won’t stop. It’s like the walls of the cafe are closing in around me, the warmth of the room feeling suffocating rather than comforting.
I glance over my shoulder again, my heart racing. But this time, I don’t see anyone in the window. It’s empty. Just the reflection of the town square behind me. The unease in my stomach doesn’t settle, though. It’s like I can still feel someone’s gaze on me, like I’m being watched, even though I can’t see anyone.
“Christina,” I murmur, my voice a little shaky. “I swear I felt like someone was watching me just now.”
She looks up from her drink, brow furrowed with concern. “What do you mean? You’re not making me paranoid, are you?”
I laugh weakly, but it’s not convincing. My hands feel clammy as I clutch my cup tighter, trying to steady myself. “I don’t know… maybe I’m just losing it. It’s probably just in my head.”
“Yeah, well, if anyone’s losing it around here, it’s me,” she teases, her eyes lighting up with that familiar spark that always calms me a little. “I’ve been awake since seven this morning trying to get my Christmas shopping done. You’re just in a funk, that’s all.”
But I can’t shake it. The sense that I’m not alone, that something or someone is lingering just outside my line of sight.
“Dove.” Christina’s voice softens, and I look at her. “You’re not okay. You haven’t been for days.”
I force a smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. “I’m fine, Chris. Just… just tired.”
She doesn’t buy it. Her gaze hardens, her lips pressed into a thin line. “You know you don’t have to pretend with me, right? You know I’m here for you. Whatever this is… this thing with Ashton, it’s tearing you apart. You’re not letting yourself heal.”
I lower my gaze to my drink, the steam curling up in delicate tendrils. Her words hit too close to home. Healing feels impossible, like a distant dream I can’t reach.
“Yeah, well… it’s complicated.” I try to sound casual, but my voice betrays me, cracking slightly.
Christina watches me for a moment, as if weighing whether to press further. But before she can say anything, I feel it again. That creeping sense of being watched, even though I’m sure no one’s there. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and I grip my cup tighter, my fingers turning white. My breath hitches in my throat.
“Christina,” I whisper, the fear creeping back into my voice. “I swear… someone’s here. I can’t explain it. It’s like I can feel them. Watching me.”
She frowns, her expression turning more serious. “Dove, you need to let go of this. Whatever happened with him… with Ashton… he’s gone, okay? You’ve gotta stop letting him control your thoughts.”
I nod, but even as I do, the sinking feeling in my stomach doesn’t go away. I want to believe her. I want to convince myself that Ashton’s gone, that it’s over. But deep down, I don’t know if I can.
Then, just as quickly as it came, the feeling fades, like a shadow slipping away.
I glance around the cafe, trying to force myself to breathe normally again. The sounds of laughter, the clinking of mugs, the warm hum of conversation—everything seems normal. But that feeling, that heavy, suffocating feeling, lingers on the edges of my mind.
“Maybe I’m just being paranoid,” I murmur, mostly to myself. But Christina’s not convinced.
“Look, I know you’re scared. I know this whole thing with Ashton has messed with your head, but you need to let it go. He’s not watching you, Dove. You’re safe. You’re home.”
Her words are soothing, but my mind still spins. As much as I want to believe her, the fear festers deep inside me, like a wound that won’t heal. What if he’s still out there? What if Ashton hasn’t let me go at all?
But I nod, trying to silence the voice in my head that insists something’s wrong.
“Okay. Okay, you’re right.”
She smiles, but there’s a softness in her eyes. “It’s okay to not be okay, Dove. You’ve been through a lot, but I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here, okay?”
I nod again, but I don’t feel like I’m truly here. My mind is still somewhere else, trapped in the fear and confusion Ashton left behind. I want to believe I’m safe. I want to feel normal again.
But as the door jingles behind us, the hair on the back of my neck stands on end once more.
Someone’s watching me. I don’t know who. I don’t know why. But I feel it, deep in my bones.
And I can’t shake the feeling that, somehow, Ashton’s still here.
Christina continues talking, her words floating around me,but I can’t focus. I can’t stop the gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach. The bell above the door jingles again, and I snap my head toward the sound, my heart thudding in my chest.
Just the wind, I tell myself. It’s nothing. But the instinct to check lingers—this irrational pull to verify that no one is watching me, no one is lurking just out of sight.
