The meal with Elena lingered in Sam's mind long after the plates were cleared and the room had gone quiet. Her food, her laughter, her warmth—they gave him something he hadn't realized he needed: peace. For the first time in what felt like forever, the weight in his chest had lightened.
They were sitting on separate bean bags in the living room, each facing the other. A couple of empty plates lay nearby on the carpet, forgotten. The air held a kind of quiet stillness, the kind that only comes when two people feel safe in each other's presence.
The lighting was soft—just a dim lamp in the corner and the fading golden hue of sunset slipping through the curtains. Conversations drifted lazily between them. At first, the easy stuff—funny college stories, bad professors, crazy food fails. Sam told her about the time he'd tried to make ramen with a hairdryer in his dorm. Elena couldn't stop laughing. Then she shared how she once burnt a pot of rice so badly the bottom turned into charcoal. They had giggled like kids.
Then came the shift.
A silence. Not awkward, but thoughtful.
Sam noticed Elena's smile slowly fade. She wasn't looking at him anymore, but through him, like her mind had wandered to somewhere darker.
Sam nudged her foot gently with his. "Hey," he said. "Where'd you go just now?"
She blinked, the smile returning for a second. But it was weaker. "Just… remembering. Something I thought I'd buried."
Sam didn't press. He simply waited. That was the thing about pain—you couldn't pull it out of someone like a splinter. They had to offer it.
The strong wind clashed with glass window.
Elena drew in a slow breath. Her hands fidgeted with the edge of the blanket.
"I want to talk about something," she said.
Sam leaned in, instinctively mirroring her seriousness. "Okay."
"About the earlier incident. The stalker guy name was . Kevin. Can I talk to you about him?"
Sam's posture shifted. He didn't break eye contact. "Only if you're comfortable."
She nodded. "I am. I think I need to."
Sam turned to fully face her, their knees almost touching. The light behind Elena cast a glow on her hair. He gave her his full attention, his expression calm, supportive.
"Only a few people know this," Elena said. Her voice was quiet but controlled. "And I need you to hear it. Just... hear it."
"I'm here," Sam said simply.
She paused, closing her eyes for a moment.
"I met Kevin at my college fresher's party. I still remember what he was wearing—black shirt, sleeves rolled, that confident-but-not-cocky smile. He stood out. Not because he was loud, but because he looked like he belonged, like he didn't need to try so hard to be liked. And somehow, he noticed me. Among a hundred people dancing, laughing, drinking—he noticed me."
Sam said nothing. He just listened.
"He was sweet that night. Asked me if I was okay when I stepped out to get air. Said my laugh sounded real, not like the fake ones people use at parties. We met in several places on campus after that. Our short talks turned into long hours of conversation. It felt like a movie scene. He wasn't just charming—he was smart, ambitious, thoughtful. He had dreams of starting his own company, of 'building something that matters.'"
Elena looked down, her voice steady but soft. "We started spending time together. First as friends. Then more. Study sessions, late-night texts, playlists, inside jokes. I liked how he made me feel—seen, important, chosen. He remembered things I didn't even know I'd said out loud."
Her lips tightened.
"He became my first love. And when he proposed to me, I said yes. How foolish I was, you must think."
"No," Sam said quietly but firmly. "You're not foolish."
Elena gave a hollow laugh. "At first, everything felt perfect. He brought me flowers when I was stressed. Left notes in my books. Always said how lucky he was to have me. And I believed it. I wanted to believe it."
She looked up. Her eyes were distant now.
"Then… things started to shift."
A beat.
"The first time I felt something was wrong was when he tried to kiss me. Not a normal kiss. A forced one. I wasn't ready—I froze, panicked, pulled away. And he snapped. Not loudly. Just… enough."
Sam's jaw clenched.
"He apologized later. A hundred times. Told me he didn't mean to scare me. Said he lost control because he 'loved me too much.' I forgave him. I thought that was what love was—learning and forgiving.
"But from that moment on… something inside me changed. I started to feel fear, even in silence. I didn't recognize it at first. But it grew. Quietly."
She wiped her palms on her jeans.
"Then came his birthday. He planned a night out—dinner, then a club. I told him I didn't want to drink. I wasn't in the mood. But he insisted. Said it was just one night. 'Just drink for me, Elena. Please. One night.'"
She looked straight at Sam.
"So I gave in. Again."
Her voice dropped to a whisper. "The drink he handed me tasted strange. Sweet, but thick. I drank it anyway—trying to be cool, trying not to ruin his night. He smiled. Clinked his glass against mine."
A silence.
"And then… fragments."
She clutched the edge of the blanket now.
"Music fading. Lights spinning. My legs heavy. Kevin's arm around my waist, tighter than usual. His voice in my ear, words I couldn't hold onto. I think I laughed. Or smiled to make him stop talking. Then—darkness.
"Everything after that is a blur. I lost consciousness after drinking."
Her voice trembled as the last word fell. She stared at her hands, clenched in her lap. Sam didn't speak. He just looked at her, face unreadable, heart thudding in his chest.
He wanted to say something. Anything. But he knew words wouldn't be enough.
He moved slightly forward, careful not to break the moment.
"Elena," he said softly.
She blinked slowly. Her breathing had changed.
"Elena?"
Her shoulders sagged. Her eyes glazed.
[End of Chapter 13]