Some days made me wish I could set fire to my memories and dance upon the ashes.

First came more canceled classes. Others switched to remote learning, but that left me with only five. Not nearly enough to carry my costs. 

Through no fault of my own, my superiors had all but made me redundant in three separate language schools. Of course, it happened right when I needed money the most. Damn it!

By the second Friday in March, I'd lost all my in-person classes. Wait and see, remained their constant refrain. Let's hope it'll blow over soon.

With each passing day, COVID worsened. It didn't seem in a hurry to leave, and I couldn't afford to fall further into debt. If a pandemic hadn't fallen at our doorstep, I could have taken a job at a store or a restaurant. 

But now? 

How in the holy hell would I escape this mess?

It would embarrass the heck out of me if I couldn't keep my promise to help Emily with my share of the rent. She'd fared even worse than me, many of her clients refusing to work remotely. 

My best friend could move back to California, but I didn't have any family in the States apart from my aunt. I didn't have any family here either. Where would I go? What would I do?

I didn't want to return to the States. I really didn't.

Pressing my forehead against the window of the bus, I exhaled a heavy breath. Please, God. Give me a break. Just one. That's all I ask.

Twilight had fallen before I hurried toward the train station with only five minutes to catch the next one to Bournemouth. I raced toward the mouth of the underground tunnel. The one that led to the train platforms. 

There he stood. The last person in the world I could bear to meet.

Thomas.

"Did you get the flowers?" he asked in his deep baritone. 

I walked past him without a word.

He followed me.

Not right behind me, of course. Oh, no. He tailed me from a fair distance like a hunter observing his prey. But I could hear his calm, steady footfalls behind me. Echoing in the tunnel.

Clomp-clomp. Clomp-clomp. Clomp-clomp.

Keep calm. Don't run.

When I cast a cursory glance behind me, Thomas kept his keen eyes trained on me. After I'd faced front, I could almost feel his glare burning through my clothes and searing my skin.

Thomas didn't speak. He simply shadowed me. Clomp-clomp.

Calm. Composed. On the prowl.

What happened to his new girl? Why wasn't he stalking her instead of me?

My heart thudded against my ribs while I considered my options. Of course, Thomas had probably calculated his every action so that I couldn't protest. 

What would I say to the police?

Hello, my ex is walking behind me in the train station. Following me. But not hurting me in any way. Or even talking to me. No...it just doesn't feel right.

Not such a fool after all. Thomas could pretend to be a determined passenger hoping to catch his commuter train home.

Didn't he understand? It was over.

I kept walking. Expressing silent gratitude for the clusters of witnesses all around us. Cast a glance up the stairs at my platform. Half full. A decent number of passengers were waiting for the same train, thank God.

Adrenaline pumped through my veins as my thoughts raced. Police? Ticket office? Do I wait for my imminent train? What if he follows me aboard?

Climbing the steps two by two, I strode toward a cluster of people. The balls of my pumps resisted every step, the grimy platform sticky with Lord knew what. It stank of broken dreams and desperation, a combination of stale beer, sweat, chemical perfume, and urine.

Thomas pursued me. His steps steady, assured, confident.

Stay near people. He's less likely to lose control in public.

My ex came to a halt near me. When I drifted, he shuffled closer.

As much as I hated to admit it, my emotions burbled in a wild array I couldn't understand. Equal amounts of fear and strength. With all my heart, I didn't love him anymore. Didn't like him. Didn't want him. 

That autonomy? That power? That freedom? 

It coursed through me like lightning.

But I also realized all the cardio kickboxing videos in the world wouldn't help me to fight off a man who stood almost a foot taller than me. Thomas jogged five times a week. Performed a daily regimen of push ups. Opened up jars I didn't have a hope in hell of cracking.

"Don't walk away from me," commanded Thomas in perfect High German, his tone calm and assertive. Like Neil's. And yet oh, so different. The Fool made goosebumps rise on my skin.

Thomas didn't raise his voice. He never did. He didn't have to.

Scattering like sheep before the wolf, the traitorous passengers slowly ambled away from us. I followed suit. And Thomas stalked me.

"Don't you have anything to say?" he asked, powerful yet composed.

No reply from me.

"When are you coming to get your things?" he demanded.

"When I'm good and ready," I replied, my tone as jagged as barbed wire.

"And when do you suppose that will be?"

"When I'm good and ready."

A wry chuckle fell from his lips.

Then came my rage. Stifled. Prickly like the thorns on a rose stem. If this guy attacks me, I will kick him between the legs so hard he barfs his own balls.

I couldn't fight him off. Not in a fair fight, anyway. I gripped my house keys in one pocket and a pen in the other. Thomas wouldn't be foolish enough to attack me in public, would he?

Kick to the balls. If he grabs you, go for the eyes.

With that very thought in mind, I glared at him.

Thomas halted. Surprise or shock? It swept across his face like a passing shadow, replaced by calm once more. But my ex stayed rooted in place.

Yes, well done. You don't want to unleash my dark side.

After the loudspeaker had announced my incoming train, my ex spoke in accented English. "He won't ever love you like I do."

That drew the attention of a few passengers. They cast him wary glances before staring at the clock or the schedule.

Tingles crawled across my skin. Not the good kind. An electric surge that prepared one to fight a rabid animal.

Where had he seen us together? Was he stalking me? Had he hacked my computer? Or had he seen us at all?

Was he just pretending and gauging my reaction? Thomas was clever. Cunning.

If only he'd used his intelligence for good...

"Thank God," came my sardonic reply. "The world can't stand two of you."

The train roared as it whooshed past us before screeching to a halt. Iron on iron. His lips ticked upward in a sardonic half-smile. Eyes twinkling.

Maybe he liked the thrill. The defiance. For once, I'd dared to challenge him.

Perhaps Thomas had never loved me quite so much than he had right then, when I'd stood up to him. What would he do now? Chase me? Hunt me? Claim me once more as his own?

Never.

Thomas lived for this shit. But I didn't.

Neil's words echoed in my mind. I don't like playing games.

"One more step and I call the cops," I warned him.

Three beeps. When the train doors opened, I slipped inside. Found a seat in a crowded part of the train. Sat. And glared at Thomas through the window, fogged up by my heavy breathing.

A part of me expected him to follow. Hell, my behavior practically dared him to follow. But Thomas remained steadfast on the platform, watching me with bright, shining gray eyes.

Why did my ex have such a self-satisfied look? What game was he playing? What was his next move? And why did he always make me feel trapped in a chess game I was destined to lose?

___

Word count: 1,318
Total word count: 20,174/20,000

YAYYYYY! We made the goal! Woo-hoo! ♥