“Listen to me,” I start, my own voice shaky as my palms raise in defense.
I can feel his panic rising from here, and I’m not quite sure how to handle this—how to handlehim. I never got around to figuring out how to explain things.
“Don’t,” Elijah interrupts. “Don’t say anything. I’m leaving.”
He drops the paper, and I watch as it floats toward the floor. The urge to snap forward and grab it before it falls is overwhelming, but I stay still. Elijah pushes past me, heading toward the front door.
“Eli, wait! You don’t understand,” I plead, running after him. “I’ve been dreaming of you my entire life. I-I’ve been documenting my dreams since we’ve met, trying to find the connection.”
Elijah lets loose a cruel, sharp laugh that cuts right through me. When I grab his bicep again, he tears himself free, turningto give me a chilling glare. His soft cheeks are flushed and damp, his eyes welling with more tears as he stares back at me.
“And that’s why you’ve been following me around, taking photos of me? All this time, I thought you were too busy to see me, you were lurking in the shadows?”he questions.
I groan in frustration, gripping my hair.
I need to ground myself; I need to figure out how to fix these before he walks out the door and I lose him forever. I fear that if he leaves now, there will be no rectifying this.
“After I took that photo of you on the night you came over, I realized how much I loved it. And it’s more special when it’s authentic. That’s the only reason I did it. It didn’t feel wrong to me, Eli. Not when you’re already mine.”
“Yours?” he snarls. “You don’townme just because you’ve placed me in your sick fantasies, Rowan.”
“That’s not what this is!” I demand, taking a step toward him as I fight off the overwhelming feeling of embarrassment. Elijah takes a large step back, now even closer to the exit. “We were in love. Before this life, the two of us were in love, and somehow, I lost you. My entire life, I’ve been searching for you.”
“You’re fucking crazy,” he says, and it sounds as if he cannot believe the situation we’re in. That he’s startled and scared and absolutely dumbstruck. “Bennett was right. I have no clue who you are.”
“Don’t listen to that asshole, Eli. He’s just jealous of what we have.”
“We have nothing!” Elijah screams, tears falling rapidly now. “We have nothing because you are a stalker, and I am a victim.And I… I…” He takes a deep breath, covering his mouth with his hand. “I let youmark me.”
“Angel, please,” I beg, moving toward him once again. “Please just hear me out. Let me explain this, let me fix it. Do you remember? Do you remember how it felt to be with me? How you cried and crumbled in my hands? It’s because you used to love me, and your soul remembers that. Does that not count for anything?”
Elijah is shaking his head frantically, his wide hazel eyes panicked and unsteady.“I cried because it felt good, because you always know what to say and how to touch me. Not because—”
“And how would I know? Huh?” I interrupt, having closed in enough that he’s only a step away from the door. “How would I have known exactly what you needed, exactly how to please you if not for loving you so desperately before now?”
Elijah stares at the floor. His hands shake at his sides as he lets the words sink in. And his body seems to be surrendering, de-tensing with every second that passes.
Just when I think he might choose to sit down and hear me out fully, that something in him recognizes the feel of my soul and can understand the ludicrous things leaving my mouth, he turns that saddened gaze onto mine and shakes his head.
“I’m leaving now," he says. "If you follow me, or if I see your face again, I’ll call the police.”
“Eli—”
“I mean it, Rowan. I will call them, and you will go to jail. Leave. Me. Alone.”Elijah turns and swings open the front door, sprinting to his car and peeling out of the driveway so quickly that I doubt he even buckled his seatbelt.
I stand in the doorway and watch him retreat.
For a moment, I feel nothing. Between the pounding in my head and the dirt flying from beneath his tires, I can barely even register what has just happened.
But as the gravel settles once more and silence envelopes me, I begin to tremble under the weight of my fear and sorrow.
Elijah saw. He saw what I’ve been doing in secret and heard my excuses, and he ran. As he should.
Who in their right mind would stick around to play house with their stalker?
Sure, I may notfeellike a stalker, but that’s what I was, right? No matter the reason, with the lengths to which I went just to hide this from him, I knew it was wrong.
How can I recover? Once again, I am spiraling under the knowledge that Elijah is out of reach. My person—the one I’m meant to love. And once again it’s by my own hand.
