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Chapter 13: Followed
The incidents began to blur together.
At first, they were small enough to dismiss. Something that is easy to explain away if she tried hard enough. A missed call from an unknown number at dawn. A message that contained nothing but a single period.
The worst incident came on a Friday. She had stayed late with her riding group, laughter spilling easily for the first time in weeks. For a moment, she forgot to look over her shoulder. Forgot to brace herself.
When she reached her bike, she froze.
Her side mirror had been turned inward, deliberately. On the fuel tank, etched lightly with something sharp, was a single word.
Still.
Her hands shook so badly she dropped her keys. That was when Ali noticed.
He had always been the quiet one in the group. Solid. Observant. The kind of man who listened more than he spoke, whose presence filled space without demanding it. He crouched beside the bike, jaw tightening as he took in the damage.
“This isn’t nothing,” he said calmly. “You shouldn’t go home alone tonight.”
“I’m fine,” she lied, too quickly.
He didn’t argue. He just said, “I’ll ride behind you.”
From that night on, he did. Sometimes they talked... About bikes, tracks, stupid work stories. Sometimes they rode in companionable silence. When they reached her block, Ali walked her to the lift lobby, standing just close enough that she could breathe easier without feeling crowded.
She began to wait for him without admitting it. The stalking did not stop.
A photo slipped under her door - her with the boys hanging out, taken from a distance. A voicemail of her name being muttered, over and over, until she deleted it with tears burning behind her eyes. Once, she swore she saw him across by a pillar as she entered 7-11, watching, smiling faintly, as if proud of how afraid she’d become.
Ali noticed the changes before she spoke of them. The way she flinched at sudden sounds. How she scanned reflections instead of faces. How she lingered longer at the lift doors, finger ready on the close button.
“You don’t have to carry this alone,” he said one night, as they waited for the lift together.
She looked at him then, really looked. At the concern in his eyes. The restraint. The way he never pushed, never pried. Something fragile stirred in her chest.
“I think he’s following me,” she admitted. Saying it out loud made it real in a way she hadn’t allowed before.
Ali exhaled slowly. “Who? Your ex? Then we go to the police. Together.”
The station felt empty yet busy. Ifa’s hands trembled as she laid out the evidence, all the messages, photos, the note, the etched word on her bike. Each piece felt heavier than the last.
The officer listened carefully, his nodding more intended as the pattern emerged.
“This qualifies as stalking,” he said. “Sadly, it is not considered a crime. But we can just take your statement and keep a record of this in case it escalates and become physical - then you can file a report for physical assault.”
A statement, oh well, better than nothing at all. Clearly insufficient, but something.
"You can apply for a Protection Order,” the officer continued. “This will legally prohibit him from contacting or approaching you.”
Ifa nodded, throat tight.
“You’re not alone in this,” he added gently. “And if he breaches the order, we act.”
Outside the station, the night felt different. Still dangerous. Still uncertain. But no longer invisible.
Ali walked beside her, not touching, yet close enough that she felt anchored.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
He shrugged, almost embarrassed. “I’d do it anyway.”
She believed him. As they reached her block, the lift doors opened immediately, bright and empty. For once, her heart didn’t leap into her throat. She turned to him, the words hovering between them—gratitude, trust, something warmer that neither of them was ready to name.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asked.
Ali smiled. Just a little. “Yeah. Tomorrow, as usual at the usual place.”
The doors slid shut, carrying her upward. For the first time in weeks, hope slipped in alongside fear. And somewhere out there, a man who hated losing control was about to learn what limits felt like.
/--- Please leave a comment if you want to read the next chapter. :)
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