The Stalker

My story begins with a romance. As any small town kid moving to the city, I was awkward until I met Grace. She had a light about her, an aura of pure joy. She had a way about her that would bring anyone out of their shell. Grace went to the University of Wisconsin in Madison. She was studying Human development and eventually wanted to become a social worker. Grace and I met at a coffee shop near her university. I was working my regular five to noon job when she came in. Black hair that slightly brushed against her hips, with piercing blue eyes. Grace was unlike any person I had ever crossed paths with. I wrote my number with shaky hands on a napkin I found nearby, slid it around her coffee, and waited. Luck was on my side that day as I didn't need to wait much longer.

Grace and I began texting on a regular basis. Mostly just the casual, "How are you?" "How was work?", until it began to escalate to going out for coffee and then dinner. When she wasn't volunteering for the community we would hang out at her apartment. She lived near a park, which ironically was right across from where I stayed. Her apartment was decorated in plants, with a large fish tank that separated the kitchen from the living room. Grace had shaggy throw pillows and a large rug to match in the center living room. The apartment always smelled like freshly cut oranges, due to her candle making mother. I only met Grace's mother once at this point. She expressed concern to Grace that she believed we were moving too fast. Grace and I disagreed.

Grace called me one night in a panic, there was a man standing outside her apartment complex, it seemed as though he had been looking straight through her window. I took off, running as fast as I could. Before I went to her door I circled the apartment a few times to make sure that no one was there, no one was. Things like this continued to happen for months, police reports were filed, but they couldn't do much. That's when I began to sleep over. For a while, no one showed up to Grace's apartment, she claimed I was her hero. But I could still tell she was a bit uneasy going out to the store or even walking to school.

Eventually she had calmed down enough to feel comfortable at home again, and I had even moved in. We had a daily routine that consisted of cuddling before making breakfast. This routine was rudely interrupted by Grace discovering some of her bras were missing. Grace was a neat freak, obsessed with putting things in certain spots. She called the police, who were once again no help.

Grace was scheduled to study a semester abroad, It was her last semester in college and she was excited to finish out in the UK. The day she left was a hard one, we both cried, promised to talk to each other every night, and I even promised to visit. She told me about how she still felt like she was being watched, she even noticed that some of her stuff was going missing. I told her that she was probably just being scatterbrained since the move. She was thoroughly freaked out until I decided to visit. I surprised her one evening with roses and a large pizza. Her roomate Danni opened the door with a frown, Grace had not left her room in three days. She was too terrified that the man that was stalking had followed her across the Atlantic.

I visited Grace more often, and one night the police were there. I sprinted to the door, held Grace as she cried. The man that had been stalking her left roses on her bed, the yellow ones, her favorite. Security cameras were checked, a hooded man of medium build had a key to her dorm. He had wandered around the room, smelling her clothes, he cradled her pillows, and even fed her dog. Grace had set these cameras up after she noticed things going missing and her bedsheets messed with. I suggested it might be Danni, but Danni is a five foot tall female, the complete opposite of the figure in the video.

Grace eventually graduated and moved back to the states. I felt a lot more comfortable knowing she was next to me in bed. Grace and I eventually got married and now have three beautiful babies. But the stalking has ruined my outgoing wife. She works from home and inficts strict rules on our children, she's scared that one day the stalker will reappear and harm our children.

But how do I tell my wife that he never went away. How do I tell the mother of my children that the man that followed across the Atlantic, broke into her apartment and dorm, left her gifts, and stole her clothes, sleeps next to her every night. How do I tell my wife that I couldn't let her out of my sight, the day I seen her at the coffee shop.