You thought you had made it.

You blocked his number.

You deleted his social media.

You packed your bags at dawn, your heart pounding in your throat.

He disappeared.

New city. New job. New name on the mailbox.

You even started breathing better. You even slept with the windows open.

He was in the past.

Or so you thought.

Until that envelope arrived.

No return address.

No postage stamp.

Just your name written… In his exact handwriting.

Inside, a photo.

Taken outside your window.

Last night.

You…sleeping.

Adrenaline consumes you.

You run to the police, but there’s no evidence. There’s no name. There’s nothing. “It could have been someone from the area,” they say.

But you know.

The next night, you lock everything up. You hide knives around the house. And still, you don’t sleep.

The doorbell rings at 3:00 AM. Once, twice, three times. You hold your breath. Until… nothing.

You walk to the door with your heart in your throat. Look through the peephole.

Nothing.

But when you open it… There’s something on the floor.

A ring.

And a note.

“Running away was cruel. But I understand.”

“Even so, you’re still my promise.”

“I’ll knock on your door every night until you remember this.”

And underneath: “Signed, yours forever. PS: the baby moves when he hears your voice.”

Your body freezes. You put your hand on your stomach. No… It can't be…

But he knew.

He always knew.

And now he won't leave.

Because now you carry something… that belongs to him.

And you will understand what it's like to never be alone again.