Chapter 14 — The Man Who Never Sleeps
645 Words
Aurora didn’t expect to see him again so soon.
But the next night, Ezra was already in the lobby before her shift even began.
He stood near the window, staring outside like he was tracking something in the shadows. His posture was tense, shoulders rigid, as if he hadn’t slept at all.
When she approached the counter, he finally turned.
His expression softened instantly.
“You’re early,” he said.
“You’re earlier,” she replied.
He exhaled—a sound like he had been holding it in for hours.
“I didn’t like leaving you here last night,” he admitted.
Aurora froze.
The words were simple.
But the emotion behind them was not.
“Ezra… you don’t have to watch over me.”
“I know,” he murmured, stepping closer. “But I’m going to.”
His tone left no room for argument.
He didn’t sit this time.
He paced lightly, restless, like his body refused to relax.
“Did something happen today?” she asked.
Ezra paused.
Then he pulled something from his pocket and slid it across the counter.
A folded paper.
A parking receipt.
Stamped with today’s date.
Aurora frowned. “What is this?”
“Someone was outside your building this afternoon,” he said. “Sitting in their car for hours. They weren’t waiting for anyone. They weren’t making deliveries.”
Her blood turned to ice.
“How do you know?”
“Because I was there,” Ezra said. “And I watched him.”
Aurora’s heartbeat thundered in her ears.
“You followed me home?”
Ezra didn’t flinch.
“I stayed nearby.”
“That’s—Ezra, that’s—”
“Necessary.”
His voice was firm, unshakable.
“I didn’t follow you to invade your privacy. I followed because someone else did.”
Her breath trembled.
Ezra placed a hand on the counter—not touching her, but close enough she could feel his presence.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said in a voice rough with sincerity. “Not again.”
“Again?” she echoed.
Ezra shut his eyes briefly.
“Someone hurt you once. I can see the scars even if you hide them.”
Aurora stepped back, overwhelmed.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re right,” he said gently. “I don’t know the details. But I recognized the look in your eyes the night I arrived.”
He hesitated, and when he spoke again, his voice was quiet. Almost broken.
“I used to see that look in the mirror.”
Her breath hitched.
Before she could ask what he meant, the lobby phone rang, sharp and sudden, cutting through the silence.
Aurora flinched violently.
Ezra moved first—swift, instinctive—grabbing the phone and answering with a voice colder than she’d ever heard.
“This is the front desk.”
He listened.
Aurora watched his expression shift—brows pulling together, jaw tightening.
“No,” he said. “There’s no guest here by that name. And you don’t need to call again.”
Then he hung up.
Aurora asked, “Who was it?”
Ezra looked at her with eyes full of storm clouds.
“A man asking for you,” he said. “But he didn’t give his name.”
Her skin crawled.
Ezra stepped forward, lowering his voice.
“Aurora,” he whispered, “someone is looking for you. And they’re getting closer.”
She felt the room tilt.
Ezra reached out—not touching her, but offering his hand if she needed it.
“I can help you,” he said. “But you have to trust me.”
His eyes held hers with undeniable intensity.
“You’re not alone anymore.”
And for the first time in years—
Aurora believed it.
- Writer
