Riley avoided looking at the bouquet as she left her apartment. The flowers were still scattered on the ground, but something caught her eye. A small slip of paper peeked out between the petals.
She froze. Her heart pounded as she bent down and grabbed the note. Her hands trembled as she read the jagged handwriting: “I’ve always loved the way you look in red.”Her breath caught. The words sent a chill through her. The flowers, which had seemed so beautiful at first, now felt threatening. They weren’t a gift. They were a message.
She stuffed the note into her pocket, her pulse racing, and hurried to her car. She didn’t dare look around, afraid of what—or who—might be watching her.
***
At the restaurant, Riley tried to lose herself in work. The noise of the kitchen was loud and chaotic—clanging pots, sizzling pans, shouted orders. It should’ve been distracting, but her thoughts kept circling back to the note.
The words haunted her. No matter how hard she tried to focus, they wouldn’t go away. She felt jumpy, flinching at every small sound, every movement behind her.
When she started working here months ago, Riley had told the owners she wanted a fresh start. Back then, the bruises on her neck had still been visible. They hadn’t asked questions, and she had been grateful for that. They gave her a job, a place to belong, and space to heal.
But tonight, even the familiar chaos of the kitchen couldn’t make her feel safe.
It got worse when she noticed the man at the bar. He sat alone, nursing a drink, his eyes drifting toward the kitchen window where she worked.
Riley froze, staring at him. Something about him made her skin crawl. Her chest tightened, her instincts screaming at her to run.
Her hands started shaking. A plate slipped from her grasp and shattered on the floor, the sound making her jump.
The male owner hurried over. “You okay?” he asked, concern in his voice.
Riley nodded quickly, her eyes darting back to the man at the bar. He was still there, watching. Her stomach turned as she studied his face.
It wasn’t him. Not her stalker. Just some stranger.
“I’m fine,” she muttered, crouching to pick up the pieces of the broken plate. But she didn’t feel fine. She felt trapped, like the walls were closing in.
***
By the time Riley got home, the hallway outside her apartment was eerily quiet. She unlocked the door with shaky hands, stepping inside and locking it behind her.
She checked the windows, the closets, even under the bed. Only when she was sure she was alone did she finally let out a shaky breath.
Her phone buzzed on the counter. She picked it up and froze.
The message was short and simple: “I know you miss me. Come outside. I’ll be waiting for you.”Her chest tightened as she stared at the words. Her hands started to shake again. She glanced at the window, her heart hammering in her chest.
He was out there. Watching. Waiting.