Chapter 22 “Lose this number “

Chapter 22 “Lose this number “
Dinner had drained me more than I expected. Smiling, pretending, trying to be present when my mind kept drifting somewhere else—it was exhausting. So when Robin suggested ice cream just down the road, I agreed mostly because I didn’t have the energy to argue. Ice cream felt harmless. Simple. Something I could handle.

The shop was warm and bright, the kind of place that smelled like sugar and childhood. We were just stepping inside when I bumped into someone.

“I’m so sorry—” I started, instinctively reaching out.

Then I saw her. Rose.

Her eyes flicked over me with instant annoyance, like I was something she’d stepped in. She didn’t even bother hiding it.

“You keep popping up everywhere,” she snapped, voice sharp enough to cut. “You were supposed to just disappear.”

Before I could react, she shoved past me, shoulder hitting mine harder than necessary. The force wasn’t enough to knock me over, but it was enough to sting—physically and emotionally.

I froze.

Robin turned immediately, concern written all over his face. “Hey—are you okay? What was that about?”

I swallowed, heat rising in my chest. Embarrassment, Anger and Confusion. All tangled together.

“I… I don’t know,” I lied, because how was I supposed to explain Rose?. How was I supposed to explain a world Robin didn’t even know existed?

Rose didn’t look back. She just walked out, heels clicking sharply against the pavement, disappearing into the night like she hadn’t just ripped open something inside me.

I was never told what Marco did for a living but i figured. The way his house was guarded, alert, armed, watching every angle like they were expecting something to happen at any second. The way people looked at him—respect, fear, loyalty.

Then how he acted when his brother was shot. A normal person would’ve called an ambulance or would’ve rushed to the hospital. Marco didn’t need to tell me what he was.

And knowing who he is, what he’s capable of and the world he lives in… maybe i should have disappeared.

Robin touched my arm gently. “Emily… do you want to go somewhere else?” I forced a smile, even though my stomach was twisting.

“No. It’s fine. Let’s just… get ice cream.”

We finished our ice cream, and for the first time all evening, I felt a little lighter. Maybe it was the sugar. Maybe it was Robin’s easy humor. Maybe it was just the relief of knowing the night was almost over.

When we pulled up to my apartment, I noticed a black car parked across the street. Something about it tugged at my memory, but I brushed it off. I was tired. My mind had been running in circles all day. Everything felt like déjà vu lately.

“I’m glad you said yes,” Robin said as he parked, stepping out to open my door. “I had a great time.”

I smiled politely. “Thank you. I also had a great time.”

We stood there for a moment, talking about the couple from the restaurant—the one whose date was clearly falling apart. Robin reenacted the guy’s dramatic sighs, and I couldn’t help laughing. It felt good, Normal and Easy.

He hugged me goodnight, warm and familiar, and insisted on walking me to my door. I didn’t argue. It was harmless.

But as we walked up the path, I heard an engine roar to life.The black car. It peeled away from the curb so fast the tires screeched, disappearing down the street before I could blink.

And suddenly, everything clicked. I knew that car.I’d seen it parked outside Marco’s house the night his brother was shot.

My breath caught in my throat, was he sitting outside my apartment watching or is he following me or his people are.

Robin didn’t notice. He was still talking, still smiling, still living in a world where cars were just cars and nights were just nights.

But I stood there frozen, heart pounding, the truth settling like ice in my stomach.Marco had been here or someone connected to him.

We said our goodbyes, and I watched Robin walk back to his car, still smiling, still waving like tonight had been perfect. Maybe for him it was.

I turned to unlock my door—and froze. It was already unlocked.

A cold ripple went through me.Sarah? Maybe. But she always texted if she came home early or if she forgot her keys. And she definitely wouldn’t leave the door unlocked at night.

I pushed the door open just a little, heart thudding, pepper spray ready in my hand.

The apartment was dark. Too dark. No TV glow. No hallway light. Nothing.

“Sarah?” I called out softly. Silence.

I flicked on the lights, my pulse jumping. Her bedroom door was cracked open. I stepped closer, every instinct on edge.

“Sarah, are you in there?” Still nothing.

I pushed the door open and finally saw her—asleep on top of the covers, fully dressed, shoes still on. Completely knocked out.

Relief washed over me so fast my knees almost gave out.

I set the pepper spray down and gently helped her out of her clothes, tucking her under the blanket. She didn’t stir. She never did—she slept like the dead when she was exhausted.

But something still felt wrong.I tried to shake it off as I walked to my room. I had work tomorrow. I needed sleep.

But as I lay down, staring at the ceiling, one thought kept circling in my mind. Maybe I should text Marco and ask him about the car.

I turned onto my side, reaching for my phone before I could talk myself out of it. My fingers hovered over his name—Marco, i saved recently—like touching it might burn me.

My thumb tapped his name, and the message box opened. My heart thudded painfully, like it knew I was crossing a line I couldn’t uncross.

I typed slowly at first. “Was that your car outside my apartment?. I stared at the words, Too direct. Too vulnerable and Too revealing.I deleted it.

Tried again. “Did you come by tonight?”. Deleted.

My chest tightened. Why was this so hard? Why did it feel like every word carried weight I wasn’t ready to admit?

Finally, I typed something simple. Something safe. Something that didn’t give away how shaken I really was. “I saw a car tonight. Looked familiar. Was it yours?”

I read it three times.It still felt like too much.But not sending it felt worse.Before I could lose my nerve, I hit send.

I placed the phone beside me on the bed, face up, screen glowing in the dark like it was waiting too.

One minute passed.Then two.Then five.Nothing

The phone buzzed with a message.My heart jumped.
Finally.

I sat up, breath caught somewhere between hope and dread. Maybe he’d explain. Maybe he’d say it was his car. Maybe he’d admit he came to check on me. Maybe.

I opened the message. “Lose this number.”

For a second, I didn’t breathe.