Page 86 of Deeply Examined

At the man who, despite it all, still owns a part of me.

“You said something in there,” I finally say, my voice quiet. “About not knowing how to love someone the right way.”

West nods slowly.

“Love isn’t about getting it right all the time,” I continue. “But it is about trust. And when you broke mine…you didn’t just hurt me, Adam. You made me question everything. Myself. Us. What we were.”

He flinches, like the words land deeper than he expected. “I know,” he murmurs. “This is the part where I’m supposed to throw myself at your feet, beg for forgiveness, promise to change, to be a better man. But Jessica, I love you too much to do that. You want trust? You want no more lies?”

I nod.

“The truth is, I won’t change.” He barks out a harsh, sorrow-filled laugh. “Believe me, I’ve tried.”

His gaze flicks to my ears. “The earrings you’re wearing, the ones I got you for Christmas, they have trackers in them. I can see where you are, hear what you say.”

My breath escapes me. My hands fly to my ears, touch the cold, sharp-edged gemstones. So that’s how he always knew where to show up.

He watches my reaction with no change in his expression. “I’m going to need you to leave them in, and if you take them out, I’ll find another way to follow you because I won’t leave you, ever. I used to think I had no heart, but that’s not the case. I do have one, but it’s inyourchest. You hold my heart. You’re out there walking around, getting into danger, being reckless withmyheart. I can’t tolerate the thought of something bad happening to you. The only thing that makes it bearable is always knowing where you are, that you’re safe. It’s the only thing that brings me peace.”

I digest that information, appalled and yet somehow moved. Now that I know more about his past, it makes a painful kind of sense. He’s never been loved. Not by his mother. Not by anyone who was supposed to protect him. His adult relationships have only been sexual—no attachment, no real connection.

This man, this poor scarred man, has been alone his entire life.

It’s a thought that breaks my heart, rips it into tiny shreds.

I see now how loving me scares him. He’s afraid he’ll lose the only person who truly cares for him. Afraid he’ll fail me the same way he thinks he failed his mother—when he couldn’t keep her safe. Couldn’t save her.

And this? The tracking, the control—it’s not about ownership. It’sfear. His desperate way of holding on to the one thing in his life that feels real.

I don’t know what to do with that.

Do I give up my privacy to ease his anxiety?

Is that a fair trade?

West doesn’t give me a chance to think it through. His voice, raw with emotion, pulls me back. “You ruined me, Jessica. When you were sixteen with cherry lip gloss. It wasn’t your intention, your fault, I get that, but that’s what happened. No one will ever compare to you. And now that I’ve had you, loved you, my obsession has only grown. You’re mine forever.”

Mine. Forever.

I swallow hard, those words settling somewhere deep in my chest, lodging themselves against my ribs.

“I hope you’ll be with me willingly, as my girlfriend and someday my wife.” His eyes darken, become stormy. “If you won’t, I still refuse to leave. I’ll be outside every door, every window. I’ll follow you across the world if I have to. I can be the villain in your story. The stalker. The maniac. Or I can be the hero. The man who stands by your side through any storm. Either way, I’m with you. Always.”

He sucks in a deep breath, as if all that talking has taken the wind out of him. He meets my eyes, holding me rooted in place, and says, “That’sthe truth.”

The bell rings.

Doors are flung open, and students spill out into the hall. A sea of chatting, laughing, frowning, stressed, rushing humanity fills in the gap between West and me, forcing us apart until we’re two separate islands. My next class walks by, heading into my room with a litany of, “Hi, Ms. Jones,” “Hey, Ms. Jones,” “I forgot my homework again, Ms. Jones.”

West watches me, unblinking, with his arms across his chest, like he needs an answer immediately, but I can’t give him that. Not yet. I need to prepare for this next class, to think things through.

The hallway begins to empty, each student finding their place, leaving empty candy wrappers and dropped homework assignments on the floor.

“I—I’ve got to go,” I stammer, aware that West won’t like this. He’s a man who needs resolution as quickly as possible, but I don’t want to answer in haste.

This is too important.

My happiness, my entire future, hangs in the balance.

---