Aurora placed the book down on her kitchen counter, staring at it like it might come alive and bite her.
The cover was worn, the spine cracked… a well-loved copy of "Where the Wild Sorrows Bloom" her favorite novel, the one she'd gushed about just yesterday with Lucas.
But something about the delivery, the silence surrounding it, unsettled her.
She picked up her phone and typed out a message to Lucas.
Aurora: "Did you leave a book at my door this morning?"
She hovered over the send button for a moment before tapping it.
The seconds ticked by slowly, each one scraping against her nerves.
She paced the small kitchen, her bare feet cold against the kitchen tiled floor.
Finally, her phone buzzed.
Lucas: "No, I didn't. Why?"
Her heart thudded harder.
Aurora: "Someone left a copy of my favorite book on my doorstep. No note."
Lucas: "That's… weird. Are you okay?"
Aurora chewed her lower lip, glancing again at the book.
Aurora: "I'm fine. Just a little shaken."
Lucas: "Want to meet up later? Coffee's on me. You can tell me everything."
Aurora hesitated, then typed back quickly: *I'd like that.*
She needed to get out of the apartment.
She needed normalcy, even if only for a little while.
Aurora stood in front of the café at noon, her hands buried deep in her pockets.
The day was overcast, a cold breeze tugging at the lower bits of her hair.
Lucas spotted her before she saw him.
He waved, jogging across the street with a one sided grin plastered on his face.
The moment she saw him, her chest loosened a little.
"Hey," he said, a little breathless as he approached. "You okay?"
She nodded, though she wasn't entirely sure it was the truth.
They stepped inside the café together, the smell of roasted coffee beans and baked goods wrapping around them like a warm blanket.
Lucas ordered for them…black coffee for him, a mocha latte for her and they found a small table near the back, away from the windows.
"So," Lucas said after a while, studying her carefully. "Tell me everything."
Aurora wrapped her hands around her cup for warmth.
She told him about the knock at the door, the mysterious package, the old book.
Lucas listened without interrupting, his brows furrowed in concern.
"Do you think it was...?" he trailed off, not wanting to say the name.
Aurora shrugged. "I don't know. But if it was Ethan, why now? Why send me something so... specific?"
Lucas leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his messy hair.
"Maybe he's trying to mess with you. Get inside your head."
Aurora stared into her cup.
"Maybe," she said quietly. "He always knew how to do that."
Lucas's jaw tightened.
It was subtle, but she noticed it.
"You don't have to deal with this alone," he said firmly.
His words wrapped around her like a shield she hadn't realized she needed.
For a moment, she allowed herself to believe it.
That maybe, just maybe, she wasn't alone this time.
Aurora remembered one time, not too long ago when she was on the bleachers, clutching her knees to her chest, her heart pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears.
She had just seen Ethan with another girl.
Again.
This time, he hadn't even tried to hide it.
Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away stubbornly.
She wouldn't cry.
Not for him.
Ethan had always been good at apologies.
At making her feel special just long enough for her to forget the hurt.
A tap on her shoulder made her look up.
Ethan stood there, looking sheepish.
"I screwed up," he said, voice soft. "You know I'm an idiot sometimes."
Aurora said nothing.
"I love you, Rora," he said, using the nickname he had given her.
Something inside her cracked then.
Because a part of her… a naive, desperate part still wanted to believe it.
Still wanted to believe he could be better.
She nodded silently, and Ethan smiled like he had just won a prize.
She didn't realize until much later that forgiveness, when handed out too freely, can become a weapon in the wrong hands.
Aurora shook the memory away, focusing on Lucas's steady gaze.
"I just feel stupid," she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "For letting him hurt me so many times."
Lucas leaned forward, his elbows on the table.
"You're not stupid," he said fiercely. "You cared. That's not something to be ashamed of."
His sincerity almost undid her.
She bit her lip to keep her emotions at bay.
"Thank you," she said, meaning it.
Lucas smiled …a small, genuine smile and for a moment, the world outside the café didn't matter.
Meanwhile ,across the street, hidden in the shadow of a bookstore, Ethan watched them. He had seen them accidentally.
He saw the way Aurora smiled at the other guy.
Saw the way she leaned in, her face open and unguarded.
It twisted something sharp and dark inside him.
She was supposed to be devastated without him.
Broken.
Lost.
Not... moving on.
Not finding comfort in someone else's company.
He gritted his teeth.
This wasn't over.
Not by a long shot.
Later that night, Aurora curled up on her couch, a blanket wrapped around her, watching an old movie halfheartedly.
Her phone buzzed again.
Unknown Number: "Miss me yet?"
Aurora's blood ran cold.
She blocked the number immediately, her hands shaking.
But the damage was done.
The fear was back.
Coiled around her ribs like a snake.
She thought about calling Lucas.
Thought about asking him to stay on the phone with her until she fell asleep.
But she pushed the thought away.
She couldn't lean on him for everything.
She had to be strong.
Even if it meant facing the darkness alone.
As days passed, Aurora and Lucas grew closer.
They met up after classes, studying together, exchanging favorite books, sharing inside jokes.
There was a lightness to their friendship that Aurora hadn't realized she was craving.
Lucas was funny in a dry, unexpected way.
Thoughtful without being overbearing.
He listened.
Really listened.
He never made her feel like she was too much or not enough.
With him, she could breathe.
But even as happiness crept back into her life, so did the unease.
She caught glimpses of Ethan around campus.
Always from a distance.
Always watching.
And once, when she returned to her apartment, she found her door slightly ajar, though she could have sworn she had locked it.
Nothing was missing.
Nothing obvious, anyway.
But the violation lingered.
One afternoon, as she and Lucas walked through the campus gardens, Aurora worked up the courage to tell him.
"I think Ethan's been in my apartment. I met my room door open" she blurted.
Lucas stopped dead.
"What?" His voice was low and dangerous.
"I can't prove it," she said quickly. "But I... I feel it."
Lucas raked a hand through his hair, his face darkening.
"You need to go to the police."
"I don't have any evidence," she said helplessly. "And Ethan's smart. He wouldn't leave any."
Lucas looked at her for a long moment.
"Then you're not staying there alone," he said finally.
Aurora blinked.
"What?"
"You'll stay with me," Lucas said, his tone brooking no argument. "At least until we figure this out."
Aurora opened her mouth to protest …to say it was too much, too soon but the words caught in her throat.
Because truthfully?
She didn't want to be alone anymore.
She didn't want to keep pretending she wasn't scared.
"Okay," she whispered.
And when Lucas reached out and took her hand, she didn't pull away.
Unknown to Aurora, at that same moment, Ethan sat in a dark room across town, flipping through photos on his phone.
Photos he had taken of Aurora.
Photos she didn't know existed.
His hands shook with barely contained rage.
She was supposed to love him.
She was supposed to need him.
Not him.
Not Lucas.
He wouldn't lose her.
Not without a fight.
And if Aurora wouldn't listen to reason...
He was ready to remind her.
By any means necessary.
Aurora stood in front of Lucas's apartment door, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder, heart thundering against her ribs.
She had hesitated a dozen times on the way over.
Told herself she was overreacting.
That she should just go back home, triple-lock her door, and forget about Ethan's message.
But deep down, she knew better.
This wasn't overreaction.
It was survival.
Lucas opened the door almost before she could knock.
As if he'd been waiting.
His hair was slightly wet, like he had just showered, and he wore a simple t-shirt and sweatpants.
He looked relaxed. Normal.
Everything Aurora didn't feel at that moment.
"Hey," he said softly, stepping aside to let her in.
His apartment was warm and inviting , a stark contrast to the sterile tension of her own.
Books lined the shelves.
A guitar rested against the couch.
It smelled faintly of coffee and fresh laundry.
Safe.