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“I don’t know what to do… I have to work with him. I can’t avoid him forever.”

“As someone who has been a nurse for a few years now, the advice I always hear given to victims is to document everything. Every interaction, every inappropriate comment, every time he makes you feel uncomfortable. You have to build a case, and if he’s really your Ghost, you’ll have enough evidence to get the police involved.”

The idea of getting the police involved sent a chill through me. This has escalated far beyond what I ever imagined.

“Right now, though, one thing at a time. Focus on staying safe and trusting your gut for once in your damn life. All the years I’ve known you, you never have, and now is the time to start. You’re stronger than you think, Wynnie. Look at how you handled Caleb; you didn’t just survive that relationship, it’s made you evolve.”

I think about this morning, standing up to Hudson and refusing to make myself smaller to accommodate him. Maybe Blaire was right about this, too; maybe I am stronger than I’d ever given myself credit for. I’ve endured a lot, and here I am, standing on the other side.

“Is it weird that I do feel so different? Like I’m waking up? I can almost feel Wynnie in here again,” I say, pointing at myself.

“It’s not weird at all. That’s probably exactly what’s happening.” Her eyes light up with extreme pride as she looks into mine. “You’re shedding all the bullshit that was keeping you caged. I’m basically watching a butterfly crawl out of its chrysalis, except the butterfly is pissed off and ready to beat the shit out of some guy for acting a fool.”

I laugh. Leave it to Blaire to make me feel strong in the middle of a crisis. She glances down at her watch and sighs.

“Shit, I have to get going, but listen to me: call if you need anything, okay? Day or night, I don’t care if I’m with a patient or in the middle of assisting with a surgery. You call me, then the police.”

“I will,” I promise, standing to give her another hug. “Thank you for everything. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“That’s what besties are for. Now, go home, pour yourself a big glass of wine, and remember you’re a badass woman who doesn’t take shit from anyone.”

She hurries out the door, her shiny platinum hair catching in the light from the streetlamps that were starting to flicker on. The coffee shop has grown quiet around me, as most of the other customers have left before closing.

I stay at my table, wrapping my hands around the cup. The coffee has nearly gone cold, but I drink it anyway. My phone buzzes, making me freeze with fear; slowly, I reach for it only to find a notification from my banking app. I let out an exhale of relief. Outside, the street lamps are completely on now, and Blaire’s car has disappeared. I sit with that feeling: how quickly the things around you change without you noticing.

I gather my things and leave as the baristas start cleaning up. I find myself glancing over my shoulder as I step out into the night, unable to shake a gut feeling that I am being watched.

Just as I’m turning to look ahead again, I walk straight into a wall of solid warmth.

“Oh my god!” I gasp, stumbling backward as my coffee cup goes flying, the lid busting off, and the remnants of it spilling on the sidewalk. My arm stings where it collided, and panic rushes through me until my vision lands on the person I ran into.

A smile with a dimple appears as Preston steadies me with gentle hands on my arms. I’m reminded of how the last time my arms were grabbed this way, it was harder, and bruises got left behind.

“Didn’t expect to run into you here,” he laughs, warm with amusement. “Literally.”

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going and—”

“You’re fine. Are you hurt?” He releases my arms but stays close.

“Just my pride, I guess,” I say with a puff, followed by a defeated laugh. I look him over, making sure none of my drink spilled on him. He’s dressed in a snappy navy blue suit, no tie, and the top button of his shirt is unbuttoned. His hair, which is usually scraggly from studying, is slicked back nicely.

“Wow, you look like someone who just came from a board meeting or something.”

“Well, yeah, I actually did. Had a meeting with my dad’s business; he had a cash security company before he passed, and I inherited the wonderful responsibility of making executive decisions I don’t really give a shit about.”

“Oh, I didn’t even know that. You must be busy between that and school.”

“It’s not too bad,” he shrugs. “My younger brother handles most of the day-to-day operations. I just show up to nod and sign things when he tells me to.”

Without thinking, I reach out and brush a piece of lint from the top of his jacket sleeve. The fabric is soft under my fingers, but when I feel his muscles beneath the material, I quickly pull my hand back.

“That’s so wild. You’re like a businessman then? MBA student by day, executive by… also day.”

“Yeah, something like that,” he laughs.

An awkward beat settles between us, and I find myself taking a small step backward toward my car.

“Well, I should probably get going…”