Outside, the city noise crashes back in — traffic, voices, life moving forward like nothing just split open inside my chest.
This wasn’t jealousy.
This wasn’t insecurity.
This was surveillance. Maybe even criminal behavior.
I stand there on the sidewalk, flip phone heavy in my hand, and think the thought I’ve been avoiding for weeks now.
Notwhat if.
But how long?
I don’t confront her.
Not because I’m weak.
Not because I don’t see it.
But because I finally understand something I couldn’t put words to before.
This isn’t a problem you argue your way out of.
It’s quicksand.
The harder you fight, the deeper you sink.
I walk back toward the office, phone heavy in my pocket, the city moving around me like nothing just cracked open inside my chest. People are laughing. Someone’s yelling into a headset. A delivery truck backfires and I flinch like an idiot.
I’m in love.
Or… whatever version of love this is.
And the thing that scares me most is that part of me still wants to defend her.
Just this morning, she was up before me.
Pancakes—real ones, not the boxed shit. Fresh orange juice, squeezed by hand. A protein shake blended exactly how I like it, no chunks. My laundry folded. My shirts stacked the way I do it. She even matched my socks.
She takes care of me in ways Erin never did.
That’s the truth.
Erin loved me, but she didn’tmotherme. She didn’t orbit me. She didn’t build her whole day around my habits, my needs, my rhythms.
Sage does.
And yet?—
Erin never monitored my phone.
Never erased my messages.
Never listened to my voicemails at three in the morning.
Never sabotaged my friendships.
This is so fucked up.
