Chapter 25: I THINK WE NEED TO MEET

MIA

I heard his key in the lock around nine and looked up from my laptop expecting him to walk in with takeout or groceries or that easy smile that I had grown to look forward to but instead he walked through the door carefully, like he was hurt and when the light hit his face, I saw that he had a split lip and there was a bruise forming along his jaw.

I jumped to my feet

"What happened?" There were other purple and dark bruises around his face like he had been in a brutal fight. "Dante, what—"

"I'm fine." He set his keys down slowly and I noticed his knuckles then were scraped raw and swelling. "It's not as bad as it looks."

"You're bleeding." My hands were shaking when I touched his face and he winced slightly, making me pull back. "Sit down, let me get the first aid kit, what happened, did someone—"

"Mia. Breathe." He caught my wrists gently and held them until I stopped spiraling. "I'm okay. I promise."

"You're not okay, you're hurt, who did this to you?"

He guided me to the couch and sat down, pulling me with him so I was close enough to see every detail of damage someone had done to his face. My stomach twisted because he was hurt and it was somehow my fault even though I didn't know how yet but I knew, I could feel it.

"There was someone outside," he said. "Watching the building. I noticed when I was coming home, just this guy standing across the street staring up at the windows and something felt wrong so I watched him for a minute and he wasn't just looking, he was focused, like he was waiting for something."

My blood went cold. "The stalker."

"I don't know. Maybe. I followed him when he started walking away and when I got close enough I asked what he was doing and he got aggressive immediately, said it was none of my business, and tried to leave." His jaw tightened. "I couldn't let him just walk away, not if he was watching for you."

"So you confronted him."

"I tried to talk to him first. Asked if he knew anyone in the building, said "I was concerned because we'd had some issues with harassment and then he swung at me." Dante touched his split lip carefully. "We fought for maybe thirty seconds before he ran off but I got his license plate before he drove away."

I let out a sigh. That was good at least. At this point, my life had turned into some sort of movie with all the crazy things happening to me.

"I reported it to the police and gave them everything—the plate number, description, approximate time. They said they'd look into it." He took my hand. "I'm sorry I scared you. I should've just called the police immediately instead of following him but I was worried if I waited he'd disappear and we'd never know who he was."

"You got hurt because of me."

"I got hurt protecting you. There's a difference."

"You could have been seriously hurt, Dante, what if he'd had a weapon, what if—"

"But he didn't and I'm fine and now the police have information they didn't have before." He pulled me closer despite his injuries. "I'd do worse to keep you safe. You know that, right?"

I looked up at him and saw that he was already looking down at me, intently.

"Thank you," I said because what else could I say. "For watching out for me and being careful."

"Always."

I got the first aid kit from the bathroom and cleaned the cut on his lip with shaky hands because I wasn't necessarily a fan of blood, no matter how little. He sat still through it all with his jaw occasionally tensing. The split wasn't deep, thankfully, but it was going to leave a mark for days and every time I looked at it I'd remember that he got hurt because of me.

"Does it hurt anywhere else?" I asked.

"Just my ribs a little. I'll be fine."

"Can I see?"

He lifted his shirt and I saw the bruising forming along his side, dark purple spreading across pale skin. I touched it gently and felt him flinch and guilt crashed over me so hard I almost couldn't breathe because this was my fault, my stalker and my problem that had somehow become his problem and now he was sitting here bruised and bleeding because he'd been trying to protect me.

I wasn't sure how long I could keep watching him do this. My life brought too much baggage and I didn't want this to repay itself ever again.

"I'm sorry," I said. "This is all because of me."

"This is because someone won't leave you alone. That's not your fault." He touched my face. "Stop blaming yourself for other people's obsession."

He showered while I made tea neither of us would drink and tried to stop blaming myself like he said but I failed as I couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if Dante hadn't been there, noticed and fought him. Would he have come in to attack me?

This felt like I owed him a debt I could never repay because he'd put himself in danger for me and I'd done nothing to deserve that level of protection except to exist in a space he'd decided was his to defend.

His phone lit up on the coffee table and I glanced at it automatically and saw the message flash before the screen went dark again.

It's done. He won't bother you again.

My stomach dropped. What does that mean? Was that the police?

I stared at the dark screen and tried to make sense of what I'd just read because "he won't bother you again" could mean a lot of things and most of them weren't good.

Dante came out of the bathroom in sweatpants with his hair damp and when he saw me looking at his phone his expression didn't change but I felt some sort of tension fill the air between us.

"Work?" I asked, keeping my voice light.

"Yeah. Just a client thing I've been dealing with." He picked up the phone and checked it quickly before setting it back down. "Nothing important."

"Okay."

I wanted to ask more but I didn't ask because that would come off as me saying I didn't trust him and that would be wrong of me. So I made myself smile and handed him tea and sat next to him on the couch and when he pulled me close I let myself sink into him because it was easier than questioning him and comfort was what I needed even if comfort came from the person I was starting to suspect I should be questioning.

"The police will find him," Dante said quietly. "And this will all be over soon."

I nodded against his chest and tried to believe him.

Three days passed without any news and I felt a bit relieved but something still felt off.

"Maybe they got scared off," Yuna said when I finally called her and told her what was going on. "Maybe knowing someone confronted them was enough to make them back off."

"Maybe."

"You don't sound convinced."

"I don't know. It just feels too… easy, like Dante shows up beaten up one night and suddenly everything stops?"

"Isn't that good? Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes. Of course. I just—" I didn't know how to explain the feeling that something was wrong without sounding ungrateful or paranoid. "Never mind. You're right. It's good."

But I couldn't shake the image of that text message.

“Mia…” Yuna suddenly sounded different.

“Yeah?”

“I think we need to meet.”