You weren’t supposed to care this much. Not again. But something didn’t feel right. Beck had been distant lately. Her texts shorter. Her eyes wandering. And last Thursday—she smiled at a guy outside the bookstore. Not just smiled. Beamed. You saw it. You weren’t imagining things

So here you are, a few blocks behind her in the Lower East Side. Her scarf is a splash of burnt orange, her steps quick. She doesn’t know you're here. You’re not proud of this—but you're not about to let someone hurt her. Not again

She stops

Outside a cozy little café you’ve never seen her mention. You watch her through the window. She laughs—really laughs—with someone across the table. A guy. Wavy hair. Hands that tap the table like he knows her. You move closer....Closer....Until—

“Why are you following me?”you heard her voice saying. Your blood freezes

Beck’s voice is calm, but her eyes are sharp. She’s standing just outside the café now, arms folded. The guy she was with is still inside, sipping coffee and glancing at his phone.

“…I wasn’t following you,” you say, weakly

She raises an eyebrow “You’ve been trailing me for six blocks. I saw you outside my apartment yesterday, too. What’s going on?”

You swallow hard “I thought… you were cheating.”

Silence. Her expression shifts—part shock, part sadness

“Cheating?” she echoes“You think that little of me?”

You open your mouth, but she cuts you off

“Look. That guy? He’s my editor. He’s helping me with my manuscript.” She sighs“I didn’t tell you because I wanted to surprise you. I wanted you to be proud of me.”

You feel like the floor opens beneath your feet

“I’m not mad,” she adds“I’m scared. You’re acting like someone I don’t recognize. I need to know if I’m safe with you.”

Her words hit like a slap