Page 23 of Stalk

Without wanting to linger or annoy her any further, I stand up on my shaky legs and walk out of her office as calmly as I can. But when I make it back outside? I run all the way back home so I can fully fall apart.

When I wake up at noon the next day, I feel like I’ve been flogged. My head feels like it’s full of cement, and my shoulders are tense and knotted. I groan when I finally manage to roll over in bed and check the time on my phone.

I already sent my report to Catherine. I usually write them in the morning, when I’m fresh, but as soon as I made it home after stopping by the Burdick House last night, I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep after everything. I kept replaying what happened at Helena’s over and over again. Kept seeing that weird face Catherine made as soon as we sat down in her office, before I told her everything. Naturally, I couldn’t fall asleep. So, I wrote up my report and submitted it around two in the morning, and then took the longest shower of my life. Still, I tossed and turned in bed for hours. I’m not sure what time I actually fell into a deep sleep, but it doesn’t feel like it was that long ago.

When I eventually crawl out of bed, I don’t bother with breakfast, but I do make myself a strong cup of coffee. Once it’s done brewing, I make my way into my office. I need to check my work portal just in case Catherine has requested any additional information. I definitely do not want to keep her waiting if she needs something, especially after our last meeting.

As soon as I walk into my office, my computer dings. I expect the worst as I sit down—maybe Catherine wants me to redo my report. Maybe she wants me to up my training or, I don’t know what else, if I’m being honest. Before I can spiral too far down, I check the notification in my work portal.

Catherine’s name pops up with a new message. I double click on it and hold my breath.

You will have no new assignments for the time being so I can check on your last assignment. I will be in contact when we are ready for you to resume work as normal. –C

I rub my eyes harshly with my knuckles, because I can’t believe what I just read. Somehow, my life gets turned upside down—again—but this time, I get to take abreak?I don’t know whether to jump for joy or hurl. I want to be thrilled, because I could really use a break. Yet something inside my chest gnaws at me and immediately diminishes my short-lived joy. Why would I need to stop working because of one hiccup? Is Catherine concerned that I’ll bump into Mattia again on a different hit? Or, is something more serious going on? If I can’t work for Catherine, there’s only one other option.

Death.

And though death seems peaceful to me in my darkest moments, I don’t really want it. Not truly.

I know I’m overthinking and overexaggerating, but after reading Catherine’s message over and over again, I can’t help but create a list of theories in my head. When I can’t stand it anymore, I decide I need to call my best friend. She’s the only one who can take me out of the spell I’m under, and we haven’t had a chance to talk much lately.

Once I tap on Cleo’s contact and call her, I walk away from my desk and pace the length of the hallway. The farther I get from my office, the better.

The phone rings several times, and I’m about to hang up because I figure Cleo might be working today in between classes. Then, I hear her voice and exhale in relief.

“Ren!” Cleo squeals. “What’s up, love?”

I smile, feeling more relaxed already. I don’t know what I’d do without her. “I’m not interrupting you or anything, am I?”

She scoffs. “Nah. I had a couple classes this morning, but I just got home.”

“Do you work later?”

I swear I can hear the eye roll on the other line. “No.Why?”

“Uh… ” I trail off. It sucks that I usually only get to see Cleo when one of us is in survival mode, but I guess that’s what happens when you grow up and life keeps you busy. “I don’t want to be a burden if you’re busy, but I could use your company,” I finally admit.

Cleo snorts. “You’re never a burden, but we have to stop meeting up like this.”

“I know, right? Why can’t we ever get together just to hang out?”

“Adulting, ba-bay. Adulting.” We both laugh and for a second, the weight of the world is lifted from my aching chest. “Let me put on my cozy clothes and then I’ll head over. Want food on my way?”

I realize I haven’t eaten anything today and I didn’t manage to eat last night, either. “Food would be good. Whatever you’re in the mood for.”

“Got it. I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

I exhale a sigh of relief just knowing she’ll be here soon. I won’t be alone anymore. I’ll have my support person with me. “Thank you, Cleo. Thanks so much.”

“Don’t be a sappy asshole,” she retorts. “What else are best friends for?”

An hour and a half later, Cleo shoots in through the front door which I unlocked before her arrival and sings, “Honey, I’m home!”

I rush into the foyer from the living room and give her an awkward hug because on one arm she has a giant satchel which she uses as her purse, and she cradles a big brown bag full of takeout in the other arm. I grab the takeout from her and then she gives me a proper hug. We’re matched in height, which would normally be pretty tall for a woman, but it suits Cleo. I think her height works for her even more now that she’s no longer a man. I also love her pretty golden hair that has grownout to her mid back. It frames her face and makes her baby blues pop. Maybe it’s because she’s simply happier now, finally able to fully be herself. Before her transition, she didn’t look as healthy. She hid herself underneath baggy clothing and tried to please her parents as their son. She’s come such a long way.

I realize I’ve been beaming at her for far too long when she raises her eyebrows. “Jesus. Are you getting emotional on me already?”

“I can’t help it. I feel like I haven’t seen you in a year.”

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