Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
The snow is falling harder now as I stumble down the walkway, the Christmas lights blurring through my rage. Rage and fury at myself. I tried to protect her, to love her, and I’ve only ended up hurting her more. The irony of it all hits me as I trudge through the deepening snow, my heart as heavy as my footsteps.
I make it to my truck, parked around the corner, and slump into the driver’s seat. The engine sputters to life, the heater slowly warming my frozen fingers. I sit there, staring at the falling snow, replaying Chloe’s words in my head.
“Get away from my house, get off my property, and don’t you ever come near me again.”
The finality in her voice, the disgust in her eyes—it’s all burned into my memory now. I’ve lost her. I’ve lost everything.
As I drive away, the snow pelting my windshield, I can’t shake the image of Chloe’s face—the hurt, the betrayal, the fear. What have I done? For two years, I’ve been living a lie. But now, faced with the consequences, I see the truth. I’m not her guardian angel.
I’m her nightmare.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. For a moment, my heart leaps—could it be Chloe? But when I check, it’s a weather alert. Severe snowstorm warning. Stay indoors if possible.
I laugh bitterly. Stay indoors. If only I had done that in the first place, none of this would have happened. I wouldn’t have seen Chloe through her window, wouldn’t have been caught, wouldn’t have had to reveal my twisted obsession.
Maybe I should turn around and be near her house.
Maybe I should park close enough where I can still see her front door.
Maybe I should—
What the fuck is wrong with me? This is how I got here.
I grip the steering wheel tighter, forcing myself to keep driving away from Chloe’s house. Those thoughts, those impulses—they’re what got me into this mess in the first place. I can’t keep justifying my actions, can’t keep pretending that what I’m doing is okay.
The snow is coming down harder now, reducing visibility to almost nothing. I should pull over, wait out the storm, but I can’t bring myself to stop. I need to put as much distance between myself and Chloe as possible. For her sake, and for mine.
As I drive, memories of the past two years flash through my mind. The first time I saw Chloe after the accident, walking down the street, her face a mask of grief. The nights I spent parked outside her house, telling myself I was keeping her safe. The way my heart raced when we finally met by chance.
It was all a lie. Every moment, every interaction, tainted by my deception.
I slam my fists against the steering wheel, letting out a primal scream of frustration and self-loathing. How could I have let things go this far? How could I have convinced myself that what I was doing was right?
I somehow, luckily, make it back to my place, stumbling into my dark apartment, not bothering to turn on the lights. The silence is deafening after the howling wind outside. I shed my snow-covered coat and boots, leaving them in a soggy heap by the door.
I collapse onto my couch, burying my face in my hands, but then pull away and look toward my laptop. I could log on to the nanny cam and check on her. Make sure I didn’t completely freak her out. Just for a second . . .
I shake my head violently, horrified at the thought that just crossed my mind. The realization of how far I’ve gone, how deeply my obsession has warped my sense of right and wrong, hits me like a physical blow.
Grabbing my laptop, I do the first right thing I’ve done in years. Taking a deep breath, I delete the app that is connected to the nanny cam.
I stare at the blank screen, feeling a mix of relief and emptiness. The app is gone, severing my last connection to Chloe’s private life. It’s the right thing to do, I know that, but it doesn’t make the ache in my chest any less painful.
I then log on to Dark Secrets, determined to continue my purge. I can’t be a subscriber any longer to her account. No doubt, she’ll kick me off herself, but the least I can do is save her the time and energy. But as I try to find her name, I notice that she’s no longer active. There is no BlackAsChlo to be found.
I stare at the screen, a mix of emotions washing over me. Of course she’s gone from Dark Secrets. I’ve ruined that for her too. Another safe space I’ve violated and destroyed. The full weight of what I’ve done crashes down on me. I’ve not only lost Chloe, but I’ve taken away her outlets, her privacy, her sense of security. All because I couldn’t control my obsession.