“Um, yes. There’s a couple across the room. Older gentleman, younger woman with black hair. They were kissing. Are they still kissing?”

She gave me a very concerned look but straightened up. A moment later she was back. “I don’t see anyone kissing and I don’t see the couple you’re describing.”

Had they left? Or was Oksana making her way over here right now to confront me? I debated the merits of staying put and getting out of this restaurant as quickly as possible. Would it be worse for them to see me walking by or worse to be discovered?

“Were you ready to order?” the waitress asked, her face back under the table. “I could tell you about the specials.”

“No, I think I’ll just take off. I wasn’t that hungry anyways. Sorry for being your weirdest customer this week.”

“Oh, you’re not even my weirdest customer today,” she told me with a grin. “Have a good night!”

I nodded and then slid back up into the booth, which was much harder going up than it had been going down. I didn’t look to see where Oksana had been and instead stood quickly, grabbed Tyler’s shoes, and headed for the exit.

“Now what’s happening?” Shay demanded once I was outside.

“I escaped without detection. I’m heading home to check on Pigeon and I’m hoping that she’s not throwing up leather.” I glanced behind me to make sure I wasn’t being followed. As if Oksana really were some kind of assassin. “And now I’m making sure that Her Royal Evilness isn’t following me.”

The light indicated that I couldn’t cross and I came to a stop. “I shouldn’t call her evil just because I don’t like her and am jealous of her. Maybe she’s not evil.”

“Maybe she is. You ever think of that?”

“Why does that cheer me up?”

I heard Shay laugh. “Because I’m your best friend and that’s my job.”

“You’re really good at it.”

“I know. Hey, did you get a picture of Oksana kissing that guy?”

The thought hadn’t even occurred to me. “No.”

“Why not? Wasn’t that the whole point?”

I wasn’t exactly sure what the point was anymore. I tried telling myself again that it was to help protect Tyler because he was one of the few good guys left in the world. That practically made him an endangered species and I should get a humanitarian award.

But none of this was my business, even if I wanted it to be. “I don’t know. I kind of feel like I crossed a line here.”

“Sometimes you have to cross the line to see where it actually is.”

“I don’t think that’s an actual saying.”

She sighed. “Regardless, tell Tyler. And while you’re at it, tell Brad to go away. Tell the men in your lives what is going on so that everybody can make their own decisions and move on to something better.”

I wondered if she was right.

When I got home, the first thing I did was put the new shoes in Tyler’s closet and throw the old ones (along with the shoe box and the receipt) down the garbage chute in the hallway. I also made sure that both his closet door and bedroom door were shut. I checked twice.

Pigeon was right where I’d left her: curled up in the corner of my bed.

To decompress from my day, I decided to watch one of the movies I had recorded on the DVR. I was a sucker for the sweet, cheery, comforting Hallmark romances but I also loved the women-in-peril suspense movies on Lifetime. Tonight I chose one of the high-octane ones, and it was about a former soap opera actress who was being stalked by an obsessive fan who thought the actress was her villainous character from the show and needed to be taken out. The actress moved into a high-security smart home in an attempt to stay safe, but her stalker was a computer genius who disabled the whole thing. After a drawn-out fight scene, the actress was able to push the stalker down the stairs, and the stalker died.

In the past I’d always gotten a bit of a rush from movies like that, imagining what I would do if I were in the heroine’s shoes, but this one felt like a bit too much. Like it had rattled my nerves in a way I didn’t fully comprehend. It wasn’t like I had anything similar happening in my life. I didn’t have any stalkers.

Maybe it was more of my guilty conscience because I’d been basically spying on Oksana earlier. It could be the universe was warning me that karma could be unpleasant.

I resolved to be a better person.

I decided I’d had enough excitement for one evening. I got ready for bed, putting on a tank top and shorts, something that had become a bit of a necessity lately. Even though it was winter and Tyler kept the thermostat a bit cold for my liking, Pigeon exuded a lot of body heat and when I wore heavier pajamas I would wake up in a sweat. I climbed in next to the dog, scooting her over slightly to make some room for me. As was my custom every night, I scrolled through social media and my in-box just to see if there was anything that needed my attention.

Usually the answer was no, but today there was an email. From Denny’s father.

It was short and straight to the point—he apologized for Denny’s outbursts and said that Denny’s mother had left the family and Denny was having a difficult time adjusting. He asked for my patience and said he’d be happy to meet with me after things had calmed down at their house.

I felt sick to my stomach for Denny. No wonder he’d been acting out. I put my phone down on the nightstand and began to think about what I could do to assist him now that I had this new knowledge. What did he need from me to help him be more successful behaviorally?

At some point I must have drifted off because a loud noise woke me up. It was one of those heart-pounding-unmercifully-in-your-chest moments, where you woke up suddenly and weren’t exactly sure why.

I nudged Pigeon with my hand but she only grumbled and went back to sleep.

There was another noise, a shuffling. I grabbed my phone. It was three o’clock in the morning.

My first delirious thought was that Oksana had returned to finish me off. I got out of bed quietly, listening with each step that I took. My pulse was pounding so loudly in my ears that it was hard to hear. I slowly opened my door and looked down the hallway. I tiptoed to the kitchen, looking around and not seeing anything. I grabbed Tyler’s cast-iron pan, because he always left it out on the stove top. Gripping it in both hands, I continued my search.

No one.

I glanced at the TV and silently cursed it. It was that movie that had me all worried and scared. I reminded myself, again, that I didn’t have a stalker.

Although . . . there was every possibility that Tyler had one. It didn’t even have to be Oksana. It could have been another woman that he’d bewitched who didn’t know how to let go.

Wondering if I’d imagined the entire thing, I started back toward my room when I realized that Tyler’s door was open.

A door I knew for a fact that I had shut.

My heart leaped up into my throat, making it hard for me to swallow. I pushed the door open slightly and saw a large, looming figure. Letting out a shriek of terror, I lifted the pan to swipe at the person when the lights suddenly turned on.

I blinked several times, feeling blinded.

“Madison! It’s me!”

“Tyler!” I protested, letting the pan fall to my side. “I almost Tom and Jerry’ed you! Which wouldn’t have been easy because this thing is really heavy!” And expensive, I almost added, but caught myself in time. “I thought you were a stalker or something!”