Yes. I do, I decide to my surprise.
I don’t know why I’m surprised. But then, someone can only hurt you if they have your trust. Maybe the issue that Drew and I can’t resolve is that he didn’t trust me, and I sensed it in how little our breakup seemed to hurt him. How easily he ended our relationship. How little he seems to care to start it back up. But then, it’s not like I’ve given him any encouragement.
Yet … I know him. And if I was what he really wanted, nothing on heaven or earth would stop him from coming after me. I don’t know if I should be more hurt or reassured by that thought.
The next night, after I’ve gotten home, showered, and changed, I head out to meet Drew at a taqueria a few blocks away. It’s brisk but not too bad, and I’m quickly warmed just by walking. It doesn’t hurt that, now that Thanksgiving has passed, everything is decorated for the Christmas holidays. The green and red wreaths and golden twinkling lights draped over the trees and light poles give the cold evening a festive feeling, and the yearning for Christmas, for family, pulls at my heart.
But as I pass the convenience store at the end of our block, a weird feeling crawls up my spine. I discreetly look around. A couple of people pass by on the street ahead, but as I survey my periphery, the only other person on the same street as me is on the opposite side, walking a bit farther back, coat wrapped around the bottom half of their face. They also have a beanie on, so it’s kind of hard to tell if it’s a man or a woman.
Shaking it off, I turn the corner, headed for Valencia Street. But before I can get there, a glance backward has the same person behind me. And much closer. My intuition tells me danger. But the light is fading around me, and I’m a woman on her own, so I tell myself I’m just being paranoid.
Still, I pick up speed until I’ve crossed Valencia Street into the well-lit row of restaurants I’m headed for, where plenty of people mill around. I spot the taqueria and walk faster, throwing another glance behind me.
I let out a sigh of relief when I don’t see the person anymore. I laugh at myself as I enter the restaurant, chalking it up to the nerves I feel about spending time with Drew.
And I was right to be nervous, because dinner is awkward as ass. All I have to share is that there’s nothing to share. We make small talk about work and other trivial matters, then we go our separate ways with plans to do the same next Thursday.
As I go to sleep, I can’t help feeling a little sad. And a little leery of our next meeting. I hope I can find a solid lead before then, because I don’t know if I could bear another uncomfortable night that just reminds me of how much Drew and I lost.
Unfortunately, another week of investigation rules out most of the remaining suspects, even though Drew provided another, shorter list of potential suspects.
So dinner is, once again, horribly awkward. On top of that, I’m beginning to panic, because there won’t be any time to meet between now and next Thursday when he goes to his parents’ house. I ask him to let me know when he’s back, so we can regroup.
He must sense my distress, as he agrees. Since he has to go straight to work from his parents’ house, we make plans to meet at his apartment after his shift that night. Apparently, Nick moved out sometime this week and texted Drew that the place was all his. Great to save him from imposing on the friend he’s been staying with, not so great to have to try to pay the full rent on his own right after the holidays. I suggest taking the douchebag to court, but then Drew points out he could claim he was forced to leave since Drew did break his nose.
I ask him only to hold off on meeting strangers until after the holidays. Until after we figure this situation out. He doesn’t comment, and I have to hope he doesn’t think I’m trying to say he won’t be around to pay rent anyway. Despite how weird things are between us, I’m still determined not to let that happen.
My resolve is tested on Sunday morning. I’m sitting in the living room, alone as Matt is once again off god-knows-where with Alyssa, when I hear a strange noise at the door.
By the time I get there to look through the peephole, nobody’s there. As I turn to go back to the couch, my eyes land on a piece of paper that must have been pushed under the door. Assuming it’s some kind of advertisement, I pick it up with the intent to trash it when I notice it’s a folded piece of notebook paper.
With a furrowed brow, I open it. And immediately gasp and drop it.
Because scrawled on the paper are four words: Stay away from him.
I turn and throw open the door, looking desperately up and down the street. I don’t see anyone. It’s a quiet Sunday morning. I watch a neighbor pull out of their garage and drive away. But that’s it.
I go back inside and start pacing. I call him before I even realize what I’m doing.
“CJ? Everything okay?”
I’m happier to hear his voice than I should be, but I press on.
“No. I just got a note slipped under my door. It says, ‘Stay away from him.’ It’s them, Drew. Whoever is after you. They know where I live.”
“Oh my god,” he gasps, and I hear the shuffle of fabric. A glance at the clock tells me I probably woke him up.
“Oh shit, you were sleeping weren’t you?” I say. “I’m so sorry. I’ll just … go freak out over here. Or call the cops. I don’t know. I’m definitely freaking out though.” I continue pacing, trying to burn off some of the fear.
“It’s fine, I’m glad you told me. Holy shit, CJ.” The alarm in his voice just makes my anxiety worse.
“Yeah, holy shit,” I agree. “Maybe you aren’t the only one in danger here.”
It’s silent on the other end for long enough that I start pacing faster.
“God, I hope that’s not true,” he finally says. “But I don’t know about calling the cops. What are you going to tell them? That you had a vision that your ex-boyfriend is going to die and you’ve received a veiled threat from someone who may or may not be his murderer?”
Tears well in my eyes, and I realize it’s because he called himself my ex. “You’re right.”
“Just don’t leave the house by yourself, okay? Promise me.”
“I promise.” Like hell I will now anyway, promises or no.
I hear him moving around. “Uh … CJ?”
“Yeah?”
“I have one too. Except it says, ‘Stay away from her.’ And there’s nobody in the hall.”
I huff in exasperation. “There wouldn’t be, since they were just here. They must’ve hit you first.”
“Or there’s two people involved.”
“You’re not making me feel any better here.”
“Sorry. Is Matt there?”
“No, he’s off somewhere with his girlfriend.”
Drew snorts. “Well, isn’t he just living proof that there’s someone for everyone,” he says sarcastically.
“You guys really don’t like each other, do you?” I ask.
Drew is silent for a moment. “No, guess not. Doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?”
“Wow, seriously? As if these fucking notes aren’t bad enough? Are you trying to upset me more?” I clap my hand over my mouth as soon as the words are out. Not because I didn’t mean them, but because I can’t believe I actually said them.