Twisted Valentine

Leash

✽ Mandy ✽

I woke to a soft rustle in my living room and froze. My heart started to race as I listened to the noises. And then I remembered why someone was in my apartment.

Jason.

For a moment, I lay in bed staring up at the ceiling while I listened. The place felt different with another person in it. Not louder. Just steadier, like the air had stopped pressing in on me. When I finally sat up, embarrassment hit first. I had begged him to stay. I had sounded desperate, and I hated that it had worked. I was not used to needing anyone, and I was definitely not used to admitting it. Jason had stayed. He had stayed. I shook my head as I got out of bed, and I opened my bedroom door slowly. I spotted Jason by my couch. He was folding the blanket I had given him to sleep with. I watched him for a moment as he did it with exact, careful movements, lining up the corners as if the mess bothered him on a personal level. The lamp was off, and morning light slipped through the curtains, pale and thin. He looked up. His face was calm, unreadable, like he hadn’t slept at all.

“Morning,” I said.

“Morning,” he replied. I hovered near the doorway, suddenly shy. Last night, fear had filled every gap between us. In daylight, the silence felt too intimate.

“Thank you,” I said, and even saying it made my cheeks warm. “For coming up. For staying,” he set the folded blanket neatly on the couch arm.

“You asked,”

“It still matters,” I said. His gaze shifted to the window, a quick check of the street, then back to me.

“Did you sleep?”

“A little,” I admitted. “Not great. But better,” he nodded once.

“Good,” he said. I crossed the room and immediately noticed how controlled everything looked. The blanket was perfect. The cushion I always left crooked was straight. My stomach tightened, and I forced myself to breathe. Jason had done those things. Not a stranger. Still, the thought returned like a steady pulse. Someone had been here. I had felt it. I still felt it. Jason picked up his coat. “I should go,”

“You don’t have to rush,” I said, even though part of me wanted to be alone so I could stop feeling weird in my own home. “I can make some coffee,”

“I have things to do,” he replied softly. Like that, explained everything.

“Yeah…of course, still…coffee?” I asked as I headed into the kitchen.

“No,”

“Ok,” I wasn’t even surprised. Jason didn’t accept comfort unless he was the one giving it. I swallowed and forced the next words out before I lost nerve. “David and I have an official date on Saturday,” I blurted out. I wasn’t even sure why I felt the need to tell him. Jason’s face barely changed, but I saw it. His jaw went tight for a second, then released.

“Oh,” he said.

“That is all you have to say?” I asked before I could stop myself. He stared at me, his expression flat.

“You can date who you want,”

“I know,” I said quickly. “I just…you have been walking me home. It felt normal to mention it,” it didn’t feel normal. I was lying not only to him, but to myself as well. I realized that it was possible that I had a crush on Jason. Or was it just comfort? His eyes flicked down the hall toward my bedroom, then returned to mine.

“Be careful,” he said.

“I am always careful,” I shot back. Jason didn’t argue as he made a move toward the door. “Jason,” I called softly. He paused, hand near the lock. “I really do think someone was here last night,” I said. “I know how it sounds, but I know,”

“I know,” he replied, and his tone made it sound like he knew more than I did.

“How can there be no proof?” I asked.

“Locks fail. People forget. The mind fills gaps,” he said. “If something changes again, tell me,” before I could respond, he opened the door and left. The click of the latch felt final. The apartment expanded around me, suddenly too quiet again. I leaned my forehead against the door for a second and breathed through the lingering panic. It was ridiculous, but it was true. Jason made me feel safe. Maybe that’s what I felt for him. I didn’t understand why. He was quiet. He avoided questions. He moved through life as if he didn’t want to be seen. None of that should have comforted me, and yet it did. I shook it off and made myself a cup of coffee before I got comfortable on the couch. When my phone buzzed, I grabbed it. I wouldn’t admit it out loud, but I was slightly disappointed that it wasn’t Jason. It was David, messaging me through the dating app.

➤ David: Morning, Mandy. How did you sleep?

➤ Mandy: Morning. Not too bad. I’m still a bit tired, though.

A part of me wanted to tell him what happened last night, but I didn’t.

➤ David: I was thinking about Saturday. Any ideas?

I smiled before I could stop myself. Someone thinking about me in the morning still felt unreal. I took a sip of my coffee before I pulled a cushion into my lap like it could keep my nerves contained.

➤ Mandy: Maybe somewhere casual.

➤ David: Tacos?

➤ Mandy: Always tacos.

➤ David: And a mystery movie. You pick. I trust your taste.

➤ Mandy: Deal.

A green heart popped up on the screen. Cute. Predictable. It warmed me anyway. I should have been focused on David, but my mind kept drifting back to last night. I opened my messages and hovered over Jason’s name. Part of me wanted to talk to him. To try to convince him that something wasn’t right. But another part of me didn’t want to look even more paranoid. Jason had already slept on my couch because I couldn’t calm down. I didn’t want to be the girl who cried danger at every shadow. So, I put the phone down and stared at my living room. The chair was pushed in perfectly. The curtain was tucked back too neatly. My laptop was turned a few degrees, like someone had closed it and adjusted it with care. Those were not random details. They felt personal, and I hated how sure I felt about it. I couldn’t explain it, and the nagging feeling didn’t leave. My eyes kept drifting to the blanket, to the table, to the laptop sitting closed and angled wrong. I couldn’t shake the certainty that someone had touched my space. I stood and checked the front lock again. Solid. I checked the window latches. All secure. I looked in the closet and the bathroom, like that would prove something. It proved nothing except that I was spiraling. I knew I had to get a grip. On myself. On reality. And I needed to do it soon.

✽✽✽