A Day of Ruin

Chapter 3

Harlow

“Ihaveyou,”I stuttered out, immediately going red and slapping my forehead. “I mean, I think I have your paperwork.”

I motioned to the bundle in my hands as Bryson’s eyes shifted to the pile.

“You do. I was just looking for it.”

Holding it up like an Oscar, I let out an awkward grin that looked more constipated than pleasant. “Here it is!”

Bryson raised an eyebrow, a little taken back by my strange behavior. I’m sure he was pondering if I was having a nervous breakdown. He would be correct, but also he had this crazy effect on me.

Like Dex, Bryson and I used to be close. We were both second year associates and had stuck together through our first year up until the incident, leaning on each other. He made the late nights fun and more than a few times I’m sure we had nearly kissed in our sleep deprived states. Thai takeout and financials were the highlights of my social life and we had even gone on a date.

Once.

It just so happened to coincide with the day my life was ruined.

The past 6 months then became torture. The late nights still existed, in fact with global pandemics and the threat of financial collapse, they were more often than usual. Particularly with the promotion cycle edging closer and closer. But most nights, I was forced to spend them alone in the tiny conference room while the other associates hung out in the main one.

I used to rate us equally – neck and neck for the promotions. That was our goal... hit the same targets so we had to be promoted together. But eventually this just became a job, a way to pay the bills and survive. Whereas it was obvious that Bryson was still thriving. Senior partners were always talking to him and giving him pats on the back. He was by far our most accomplished associate to date.

I’m sure they wanted to fire me, but legally they didn’t have grounds. As long as I turned up every day, did my job and what was asked of me, then I couldn’t be touched. A few fellow associates tried to make it unpleasant, but despite their best efforts, they didn’t have anything more unpleasant to say than anyone else.

In fact, no one hated me, more than me.

Shaking my head, I realized Bryson was staring at me, waiting for me to hand over his bundle. I quickly thrust it into his awaiting hands, embarrassment flooding through me.

“Sorry. It must have been put there by accident,” I murmured, looking away.

Bryson’s face twisted slightly. “Actually I thought I heard one of the third years say they put it here. I could be wrong. But I wanted to check. You shouldn’t have to do anyone else’s work.”

Hope filled me. We weren’t okay – not by a long shot, but out of everyone, Bryson treated me the most human.

God I would do anything just to have things go back to normal. Normal... whatever that is.

“Thanks, Bryson,” I responded, turning away to take my seat. I wanted desperately to keep talking to him, especially since he was actually conversing with me. But the longer I did, the more I felt the tears threaten to burst. And that was the last thing I needed. I didn’t want anyone to have any ammo they could use against me.

I heard Bryson shift behind me, almost as if he had words on the tip of his tongue too, before his footsteps moved away down to his cubicle.

Tears pooled in my eyes and I quickly swiped them aside, logging into my computer as I pulled my bundle into my lap. At least this should occupy me for the day.

The sound of laughter jolted me out of my trance. I was so engrossed in my work that I had failed to notice it was finishing time.

I looked up and watched as the associates started to head off together, a group of them laughing and talking about grabbing drinks. No one glanced over at me and as their voices faded down towards the elevators, the silence sat heavy in my stomach.

My fingers flicked through the paperwork. I was nearly done – maybe only an hour or so to go. If I kept going then it wouldn’t need to be added to tomorrow’s list.

I glanced around me and noticed all the other associates were gone. I didn’t mind though – at least with the silence I didn’t have to worry about the stares or whispers. They tended to get worse as the day passed, especially when the seniors were out or had clocked off early. The associates felt protected when they didn’t have lingering eyes watching over them.

40 minutes later, I was nearly done. I was on my last spreadsheet when I heard my phone ding. Reaching down to my bag, I pulled out my black mobile, unlocking the screen to see I had an unread text message.

My eyebrows creased as I swiped open the messages. No one messaged me. No one except...

Unknown: Little Harlow Falls. All alone again. I like your pantyhose. They would look spectacular around your beautiful throat.

My heart froze as I read over the words half a dozen times. Oh fuck. He was back.

For the past 8 or so months, I had a stalker. At first it was innocent little things that I had wrote off as pranks. Notes in my mailbox, random text messages, polaroids of my mom out shopping. But they quickly escalated to bigger threats. More frequent messages threatening me, phone calls of heavy breathing, things missing out of my room and bag.

I had gone to the police but they had laughed it off, saying it was obviously just a joke and that I should be flattered. I filed a report but nothing ever came of it.

Just before everything went to shit, I had received a call from a male. His voice had been distorted but he told me he was going to destroy me so that when I had nothing left, he could pick up the pieces and I’d go willingly. I knew I should have reported it again, but I put it off after being shunned last time.

The city dinner had caught my attention. I had been so excited. Bryson had agreed to be my date and I had gone shopping with mom and picked out the most stunning black dress. The night had gone perfectly.

Until it hadn’t.

That’s the night everything changed, when everything was ruined. I lost everything, and I knew without a doubt that this stalker was the reason for it.

I was framed and despite trying to tell everyone otherwise, no one believed me. The police refused to help, telling me they had no record of my prior reports.

I was branded and shamed. Just like he wanted.

Afterwards, he continued to call and text me, his words and threats getting darker. But then about 2 months ago, he went quiet. I had hoped that maybe it was a sign he had disappeared for good and I could work on repairing my life.

But apparently not.

He was here. Somewhere. Watching me.