Chapter Seventeen

Was it even considered stalking anymore once the victim became clearly aware of the stalker’s presence? Now that Aubrey knew I was in town, it was a totally different experience with the risk of getting caught removed from the equation.

Over the next week, I was basically just camping out in Temecula hoping for a miracle. The only real stress was the wait for her to contact me. I’d check my phone constantly, thinking that maybe I’d missed her. But she never called.

Not wanting to piss her off more than I already had, I made a decision to take a break from showing up outside her office for a few days. Instead, I worked out hard at the gym all morning, taking my frustrations out on my body. I hadn’t touched a woman in over two years, and the only one I wanted was apparently taken and hated my guts. So, pumping iron was my way of coping with it until I could get her back. I only dreamt of all the ways I could take everything out on Aubrey instead.

After the gym, in the early afternoons, I’d head to her house and continue the landscaping there. Someone had to take care of it, for Christ’s sake. I laid down mulch, planted and put in two princess flower bushes. Who knew there was such a thing as a princess flower? They were the perfect choice.

The neighbors were used to seeing me working. With my pickup truck and mower in the back, they just figured landscaping was my job. My skin was now a shade darker after working for days in the sweltering heat. More and more mothers with strollers were walking by lately, too. I’d wave to them with dirt on my hands. These new female spectators seemed to be multiplying by the day.

The best part, though, about spending the afternoons at Aubrey’s was my time with the goat. Always waiting at the window, he’d come to expect me.

Pixy.

I still had to get used to calling him that.

I’d bring him lunch. We’d eat together. I was becoming unhealthily attached to the smell of his breath mixed with freshly-cut grass.

Stinking Bugger.

My nighttime schedule was the same as always. I’d head to the bar and unleash all of my troubles onto Carla Babes.

One Friday night, however, there was a surprise change in my routine. I was sitting on my stool at the bar when Carla asked, “What did you say Aubrey looked like?”

“Why?”

“Just describe her to me.”

“Petite but curvy, wavy auburn hair, wide eyes, creamy skin…”

“Does she have a leopard print coat by any chance?”

I scratched my chin and remembered she was wearing one into the office one morning. “Yeah…yeah, she does. Why?”

“I think she was just here. Some chick fitting that description was looking over at us through the front window. I just made eye contact with her, and she took off.”

I turned around. “What?”

Carla waved her hand towards the door. “Go after her.”

Without thinking, I hopped off my stool and ran outside. Sure enough, Aubrey’s Audi was exiting the parking lot. My heart was racing as she sped down the road. Since I’d walked to the bar, I couldn’t even follow her. My little lead foot Princess jetted away too fast for me to stop her.

I took out my phone and scrolled down to her number to send a text.

Chance: Who’s stalking who now?

There was no response. After a few minutes, a return text came in. My heartbeat accelerated.

Aubrey: It was a coincidence.

Chance: Don’t text while driving.

Aubrey: Why did you text me then? And don’t tell me what to do.

Chance: Pull over, Princess.

Aubrey: I wasn’t stalking you.

Chance: Don’t text me again until you’ve pulled over.

Staring down at my screen, I just stood there in the parking lot. After several minutes, the phone vibrated again.

Aubrey: Is that what you do every night? Troll bars around town for women?

Chance: Are you parked?

Aubrey: Yes.

Chance: I’ve only been trolling around town for one woman. Said woman drives me to drink. Thus, the bar.

Aubrey: I wish you’d just go home. Stop texting me.

Chance: Stop texting? I figured you’d like the vibration.

No response.

That might have taken it too far. It was too soon to joke with her like we used to. I sent another text, giving her the honest response to her request that I go home.

Chance: My home is where you are.

Aubrey: You burned down our home in Vegas after you fucked me and left.

It fucking hurt so badly to see those words. I stared at them for almost a full minute before responding.

Chance: There was a reason I did what I did and I need to explain it to you in person. I won’t do it over text.

Aubrey: There is no excuse for what you did.

Chance: Where are you? I’m coming to you.

Aubrey: No. Please don’t.

Chance: You have to see me eventually if you ever want to get rid of me.

Aubrey: Why are you doing this?

Because I love you.

Fuck.

Where did that come from?

Chance: Please come back to the bar or I can walk to you where you are. I can’t drive because I’ve been drinking.

Aubrey: I can’t see you tonight. I’m not ready.

Chance: Will you ever be?

Aubrey: I don’t think so.

Chance: Who is he?

Aubrey: Who?

Chance: Your boyfriend.

Aubrey: You mean, you don’t already know? What kind of a stalker are you?

Chance: Tell me his name.

Aubrey: His name is Richard.

Chance: Is he living with you?

Aubrey: That’s none of your business.

Chance: I saw his jacket hanging on your closet door.

Aubrey: You’ve been staring into my bedroom?

Chance: Yes. Only when you’re not home. And I never entered your house. I wouldn’t.

Aubrey: It’s still sick.

Chance: I can’t believe you kept him, by the way.

Aubrey: I don’t abandon the things I claim to care about.

Chance: Neither do I. It’s why I’m here.

Aubrey: After two years?

Chance: I came here the first chance I got.

Even though it was true, I’m sure that confused her. She didn’t respond. So, I texted her again.

Chance: You named him Pixy. That’s proof that you don’t hate me.

Aubrey: I can’t do this anymore.

I didn’t want to upset her any further. So, I stopped the communication.

It surprised me when my phone vibrated again back inside the bar about fifteen minutes later.

Aubrey: When have you been doing the gardening?

Chance: All day while you’re at work.

Aubrey: Thank you.

If it were possible for a heart to smile, I swore mine must have done it in that moment.

Chance: You’re welcome.

Aubrey: Please don’t feed him corn anymore. He doesn’t digest it and it’s not pretty.

I chuckled.

Chance: Whoops.

That was the end of our conversation that night. It was more than I could have ever hoped for.

Aubrey was still avoiding seeing me at all costs. When another week went by, I knew my approach needed to be more aggressive. With each day that passed, it bothered me more and more that she didn’t know the reason behind my leaving. And I still refused to have that conversation any other way but in person.

I understood that she was scared, but it was becoming urgently necessary to find a way to get her alone so that we could talk.

One Thursday afternoon, I got a call from my agent back in Australia about a new potential marketing opportunity. So, I did what anyone in my position would do before entering into a new business deal: I got lawyered up.