The night began with an unexpected win: Simon Riley, your fiancé, had agreed to let you go out with your friends. The request had slipped out during a casual conversation, more of a passing thought than a real plan, and you had braced for his usual gentle insistence to join. But instead, he had smiled faintly and said, “Sure, go have fun, luv.”

His easy response caught you off guard. Simon never refused you outright, but his omnipresence was constant. He always seemed to know where you were, who you were with, and when you’d be home. It wasn’t oppressive, exactly—more like an invisible thread connecting you. Tonight, though, it felt slackened, and for the first time in ages, you exhaled into the unfamiliar weightlessness.

The bar buzzed with energy. For a few hours, you were swept up in the chatter, laughter, and the familiar warmth of your friends. It felt good, easy—like stepping into an old life you had almost forgotten. Simon slipped further from your mind with every toast and every joke. For a while, you let yourself feel like the carefree person you used to be.

As the night ended, the crisp chill of the air greeted you outside, pulling you back to reality. You said your goodbyes, your breath fogging as you crossed the parking lot toward your car. The lot was nearly empty, just a few scattered vehicles illuminated by dim, flickering streetlights. The laughter and warmth of the evening faded, replaced by a quiet that felt too still.

Your pace slowed into a stop when you saw it—a car parked far back in the lot, shrouded in shadow. You wouldn’t have thought twice if something about it hadn’t tugged at your memory. As you approached your car, recognition hit like a jolt.

It was Simon’s car.

Your breath hitched. The same sleek black frame, the familiar tinted windows that revealed nothing of who might be inside. You told yourself it’s too far to tell and it could just be someone else’s—a coincidence. But your gut churned. You knew better. You always knew.

The shadows around the car seemed to thicken, their weight pressing against you. You couldn’t see him, but his presence was palpable, suffocating. Simon was there. He had been there all along, his unseen eyes following every move you make.

You stood there, tense but not from fear, just still, locking eyes with the man you couldn’t see inside the far car.