Show your love and support for the author by adding this book to your library. Thank you.
These were hectic days of preparation and last-minute rushes, fueled by a sense of excitement and anticipation, right before my wedding to Seth. Invitations were all out, the arrangements were being finalized, and the house was abuzz with energy in anticipation of a celebration. Seth and I would finally tie the knot and solidify our bond amongst a loving family and great friends.Anne had moved back to our parents' with Emily, hoping for their help in tending to the confusion of being a new mother. I missed her, yet I knew she needed a stable environment to acclimate herself to life with her daughter. But even so, there existed in the air almost tangibly the sense of hope and renewal.One afternoon, while Seth was out doing errands, I lay at home alone. The house was quiet, and for one moment, I enjoyed the peace in the midst of wedding mania. I stood at the stove, stirring a pot of soup absent-mindedly, when I heard the noise from the back of the house. My heart jumped, and my stomach
Life with Seth had fallen into a comfortable rhythm following our wedding. Content, in love, and ready to start our life free from darkness—this was what we were. But Noah's presence still loomed over my head like some dark cloud that refused to dissipate. Even after marrying Seth, there came frequent bouquets of flowers, each bearing a card attached in Noah's handwriting. Those cards had different words, but their meaning remained the same: his longing to see me, that I was supposed to be with him.We had asked security in detail to prevent anyone from entering the premises without our express permission, and it did the trick for some time at least. The flowers and cards arrived at the gate, where the staff would dump them, preventing them from reaching me. Still, Noah's relentless pursuit was more than a little unnerving, this sense of always being watched, always being waited for.No sooner had we begun to breathe a little easier, thinking maybe Noah had finally given up on his purs
Seth and I had settled into married life. An easiness and contentment I allowed to make me feel more securely at home than I had in years. We had many discussions about our future, and the idea of creating our family began to germ. The thought of having children filled me with a joy I could hardly contain. Weekends became our sacred, shared time: romantic dates, unexpected escapes, and late-night talks about what the future might hold.We always grabbed the chance to experience different hotels and get away from the feeling of home so as to blend with the ecstasy around us. We spent almost an adventure every weekend, and it increased our closeness and deepened new things in our relationship. And so we did, we laughed, we dreamed, we made love, and enjoyed each other to our fullest and deepest potential. The thought that soon we'd be parents together appeared as the next step, the logic in our journey.One very vivid weekend, we checked into a cozy but quaint bed and breakfast place in
In the dim light of our bedroom, Seth and I lay beside each other, our hands clasped together. We were feeling all different kinds of things. The atmosphere thickened into one of quiet, tender closeness, a product of years spent in shared experience and deep love. Much had been wrestled with, but troubles and uncertainties seemed to melt away at that moment, leaving only two people and a vision for the future.Seth turned to me then, his eyes soft, filled with a warmth that made my heart swell."I love you, Christie," he whispered, a tender caress to my ears. "I can't wait to start our family."I smiled at him, rushed with feeling and excitement. "I love you too, Seth. Even more than words can say."We had talked so much about babies, how great a thing it could be. This feeling of just starting a family with Seth gave me a feeling of purpose and elation. We had decided to stop using contraception, hoping that soon enough, we would be able to hear that we were going to have a baby.Seth
The next morning, I arrived at my desk job —the same routine I'd kept for the past few years. Colleagues turned toward me, acknowledging my presence with smiles and nods. I sat in my chair and positioned myself for the tasks at hand. As the morning went on, though, I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. I had skipped breakfast and now the pangs were becoming more and more difficult to ignore. I shrugged it off, promising myself that I could eat something at lunchtime.By noon, it had become worse. My vision was blurry at times, and my hands were shaking while typing. I pushed on, driven by the urge to get my work done before I took a break. This was a busy period, and I did not wish to lag. However, at around 3 PM, I just couldn't ignore these signs my body was giving. I called it off and headed home to rest.I trudged out to my car, gathering my things. Each step seemed heavier than the last. The world tilted a bit to one side, and I felt myself having to hold onto
I sat at the very end of the bed, my heart thumping as I just stared at the door. The room was smothering. The walls seemed to close in on me with each second. Noah had locked me in an apartment that he had bought expressly to keep me hidden from the world. The windows were barred, and I could see outside the door guards who had taken their place to prevent me from leaving. It was now that the feeling of being caged finally washed over me like a wave, and it was an effort to maintain steady breathing.How had this happened? I thought about all the warnings, all the red flags that I had ignored. I should have known Noah wouldn't give up so easily. Even after all that, a piece of me had still hoped he would turn his back on all this eventually, that he would see reason. Now that hope seemed foolish, almost childish.I heard footsteps, so my body stiffened. Slowly, the door opened, and there he was—Noah. He dominated the room; a sense of familiarity and fear overtook me. At one time in my
I sat at the foot of the bed, staring at the door, my heart hammering in my chest. The sense of powerlessness wrapped me in a smothering blanket, making each breath a little more labored than the previous one. Noah had confined me to this apartment. His twisted form of love turned into prison. My situation was unmistakable—I was trapped, and the man I loved turned stranger, obsessed and unhinged.I heard movement outside the door, and my body naturally straightened. The door creaked, and there he was—Noah. His presence seemed to fill the room, carrying an intoxicating mixture of fear and confusion. I had tried reasoning with him, pleading that he let me go, think about Anne, his wife, and his unborn child, but Noah was beyond reasoning now. Obsessiveness had completely taken over his mind."Christie," he said softly, his voice that unnerving blend of tender and determined. "I brought dinner."I watched as he brought a tray into the room to place upon the small table beside the bed. The
That night, I cried myself to sleep. Sorrow sat on me so heavily that I could not keep my eyes open. The tears dried up on my cheeks, leaving paths of salt and sorrow. My room was dark; the silence was oppressive. My thoughts whirled with fear and hopelessness. Never had I felt so alone, so utterly abandoned by the world. But finally, with sleep, it was a jumble of fear, exhaustion, and the dire necessity of escape that occupied my mind.The world I entered then in my dreams was no better. Shadows loomed large, and the familiar faces of those I loved were distorted and unrecognizable. I could feel Seth there, reaching out for me, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't grasp his hand. Looming in the background was Noah's face; his eyes were cold, unfeeling, watching my every move. It felt like a dream that didn't end, stuck in a revolting sequence of fear and anxiety.Yet, deep inside my sleeping mind, I felt something wrong. I was not alone. A presence was seeping into the corners
As we walked into that house that night, my brain would still glisten with the words spewed by Seth. All that weight, all that heaviness - Noah and those lies, manipulation, twisted web which life has become. My chest felt like it was stuck in some heavy fog, where nothing could be distinguished clearly, nothing trusted as what was thought to be known. Even Seth, the man who had been there for me, seemed at a distance somehow. The puzzle he'd given me, it seemed, was not pieced back together either; no matter how very hard I tried, those pieces wouldn't mesh.Seth treated me gently when he brought me home, like fragile glass that might break if one breathed too hard on it. And in his eyes, I saw the worry, the sadness, the hope that maybe, just maybe, this was the night that might change things between us. I had seen him trying everything to make me feel special, make me smile, and a part of me wanted to give him what he so desperately needed: a sign that I was coming back to him. Tha
I thought Seth was taking a leave from work for spending the day with me, which rather seemed to be a sweet gesture, but deep inside, upset me. We had been so tensed against each other lately without either of us being able fully to articulate what was nagging; it would always hang there in mid-air like an invisible barrier. While I would have liked to dissuade him from leaving, at the same time, I could not reject him. Seth had tried hard to make things be normal by bending over backward and doing all in his power; the least I could do was try to meet him halfway.We went out to a great little restaurant. It had a warm, cozy atmosphere. The low illuminations were rich in earth tones. After all, there isn't a setting more perfect for anyone who ever wanted to feel at ease. Couples were scattered all over the room, some laughing, some whispering low over glasses of wine, and it was one of those scenes-the kind of atmosphere which usually lulled me into a state of peace, but tonight mad
That's exactly what I thought: when I came back home, I had a feeling that something was different in the space. It wasn't the space that changed; no, everything was in place as it was meant to be: Seth's coat was slumped over the back of the chair by the door, his tea from the morning was still sitting on the kitchen counter, and the soft hum of the refrigerator resonated through the quiet space. Yet something inside me had shifted, and it was unsettling. I kept playing back the conversation with Noah over and over in my head like a broken record that refused to turn off.I tried to shake it, focus on anything else. I glanced up at the photos on the mantle. Images of Seth and me together-smiling, happy, like a couple deep in love. But those pictures belonged to a life that just didn't fit anymore. I looked at one for a long time, willing myself to feel something, to remember the love that Seth swore we'd shared.But all that flashed through my mind was Noah. His words, the way he loo
I don't really recall much of anything anymore. Faces, voices, they all seem to blend together, flickering shadows at the corners of my mind. Every day was like a puzzle missing too many pieces, and no matter how hard I tried, I could never really fit it together.That day, I was wandering. I had gotten out of the house without having said anything to Seth, though I wasn't totally sure why. I knew he was trying to be kind to me. Patient and gentle, he was, trying always to help me remember who he said I used to be. But no matter how hard he tried, I couldn't find anything inside of me that felt real from the stories he told. There wasn't a spark of recognition-no emotion, no feeling of home-when I looked at him. And the worst part? He kept on saying we loved each other. Loved. The word sounded foreign, hollow, almost amusing.How could I ever have loved a person that I couldn't even recognize? He's lying, I thought. Or mistaken. Maybe this was some grand, tragic misunderstanding; mayb
I never know where it started, but somewhere in the pain and in the darkness, I lost myself.It was just pain at first: the pain of losing a baby that lacerated my chest and made it hard to breathe. It was like they took a part of me-a part that would never be returned. Every breath I took was a reminder of the child I would never hold, the life I would never nurture. It felt like the world had grayed, and no matter how hard Seth tried to comfort me, I couldn't find my way back to color.Days passed. Weeks, maybe. I'm not even sure anymore. It's all such a blur, one endless stretch of numbness. Mornings, I woke up and didn't know where I was. The walls that enclosed me felt unfamiliar-the bed beneath me, too cold. I didn't know how I'd gotten there or why I should care. I didn't even feel like the same person anymore. Whoever I had been-the woman who had carried a child, who had fought so hard to survive-was gone. In her place, someone hollow, someone I didn't know.I forgot simple thi
The excitement had been building inside me for weeks. My due date was fast approaching, and every flutter, every small kick in my belly reminded me of the little life I would soon hold in my arms. I could hardly believe it—the journey from fear and uncertainty to hope and joy. Seth and I had been so careful, so deliberate in our new life, making sure that every decision we made was to create the best future for our child. But today, in my rush of excitement, I made a mistake.I wanted to do something special—something just for me and the baby. Seth had been working from home that day, caught up in a call with a new client, and I had this sudden urge to get out of the house. I decided to visit the nearest market, to pick out some clothes for the baby. We had been meaning to go shopping together, but I couldn’t wait any longer. The idea of buying tiny onesies and blankets filled me with a kind of joy I hadn’t felt in so long. I wanted to savor this moment, just me and my soon-to-be-born
After all was said and done, Seth and I knew we needed to relocate. This wasn't a spur-of-the-moment decision but rather a need that eventually comes to the surface with the passing of time. Noah's presence, his threats-this twisted obsession he had toward me-had cast this dark shadow over our lives and refused to blow away. We couldn't be like that anymore, constantly over our shoulders, waiting for him to show up and wreak our lives. So we packed all our things and left.Not one person knew where we were off to. Not even my parents. The fewer people who knew, the better. I was tired of running, tired of hiding, but it felt like the only way I was going to be able to regain some sense of control. Seth was so understanding of the decision, though I knew what it would mean: giving up his job, his friends. But he didn't complain; he wanted us safe, started over.Finally, we drove out of town, and a feeling of calm came over me for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. The weigh
I never knew that my life, which had just started to inch its way back into some semblance of normality, was once again going to be torn to pieces. Seth had done everything in his power to bring the smile back onto my face-to rebuild what had been broken. We had put so much hard work into our relationship, trying to balance our careers while devoting ourselves to each other. For the first time in months, I felt finally at peace. We were happy, really happy, and I'd started to dare hope that finally, finally the worst was behind us.But that was before Noah walked back into our lives.It was one of those rainy afternoons when Seth and I decided to release ourselves to home, allowing the tedium of a week's burden to work its way into a delightful afternoon. I recall the scent of coffee in the air and some soft music playing in the background. Seth lay on the couch, immersed in a book, while I worked in the kitchen, making us a light lunch. We were quite content in our little bubble, wit
It felt as if, for the first time in eternity, I was starting to feel like myself. Being back with Seth, in the apartment we shared, brought into my life a peace that I never imagined was possible after everything that happened to me. I could feel myself smiling more, even laughing at little things Seth would say or do to get me to be comfortable with him again. It was as if I had been pulled from the grave, taking in fresh air for the first time after existing in a suffocating nightmare.Day by day, each one marks the stride to healing, like gradually and relentlessly rising from darkness. We would go on long walks in the neighborhood, take meals together at the dining table as we used to, and spend evenings curled up on the couch, watching movies or just talking softly about our future. Seth was never pushy for me to talk of the horrors I faced in the hands of Noah unless I am ready, understanding and patient. He was everything I needed him to be-my anchor, my refuge.But even as lif