It's been five years now since BP kidnapped you for a week.

Returning to the real world has been difficult to say the least, especially since you both developed feelings for each other, feelings you hid for your good, and I don't need to explain why. It's a well-known secret how normal people react when this situation happens.

You didn't need therapy because you knew your feelings were real and not the product of some syndrome a man had to create to invalidate the testimony of a woman who trusted her captors more than the police.

And how could you not do it when on your left calf you still have the proof that they decided to shoot you even though you, a victim, were in between them and BP and didn't care?

Either way, you think to yourself it was worth it.

Now you were in your apartment. You had just arrived after, for the first time in years, you hung out with your friends to celebrate Halloween.

Excited, you headed towards the bedroom to see if the red rose was on your nightside table.

Two years after that incident, BP always leaves a rose on your bedside table every year on Halloween, as a reminder that he's still alive and that his feelings haven't changed.

But tonight seemed to be different.

The rose was on your bedside table, yes, but the atmosphere at home made you think that, perhaps, he hadn't left. Had he miscalculated the time this time? In previous years, you arrived at your apartment later than today, and that filled your heart with hope.

You decided to pretend that you didn't notice his presence in the shadows.

You were from two different worlds, it's true, but you still longed for them to collide and merge because just like puzzles, two completely different pieces are made to merge.