I was already on my street, able to see the tacky sign of the convenience shop on the first floor of my building, when I spotted Aaron.
My ex-boyfriend exited my building, making his way toward the subway station.
I considered yelling his name from the car but stopped myself, too exhausted to deal with him now. He had texted me recently, but I never responded. I missed him, but did I want to bring him back into my life when things were so weird and unsettled? What was he even doing here? An alarm went off in my mind. What if Aaron was the one behind those creepy phone calls? I never took him for the stalking kind, but here he was, leaving my building. He didn’t live or work anywhere near this area.
My hand went to my throat where the white topaz amulet rested in the crook of my neck. Ada said the stone would help manifest whatever it was that was bothering me.
Was Aaron’s appearance the result of the stone’s unexplained power?
As if sensing my mental questions, the screen of my phone lit up with a new text. I parked the car and picked up the phone.
Can’t stop thinking about you. They say make-up sex is incredible, but this was on a different level. So happy you texted me back.
What in the actual holy hell.
I stared at the message. I forgot how to blink.
I had long deleted Aaron’s number from my phone, but I couldn’t bring myself to block him, and I knew his number by heart. I knew for sure this text came from him. But could this really mean what I thought it meant? Did my doppelgänger graduate from showing up at my work to sleeping with my ex?
I felt sick to my bones.
My world was spinning out of control, swirling around that gaping, dark hole in the ground. The hole taunted me, daring me.
Should I text Aaron back? Should I run after him, question him?
Torn, I opted for my apartment. I’d seen Aaron leaving the building—did it mean he was actually inside my place with my malicious double? His text implied so.
I was shaking with rage by the time I got in. Something immediately felt off. Even though, on the surface, nothing seemed out of sorts, the weird musky scent in the air suggested otherwise.
I caressed my white topaz necklace again, the beginning of a habit, seeking reassurance from it.
My bed was made slightly differently from how I usually did it. Same, but better, more precise, neat. Wrong.
The bed was the source of that musky smell that penetrated the entire apartment. When I took a deep inhale, the scent became a stench, burning inside my lungs. I gagged. As the terrible smell continued to torment me, I couldn’t stop the vivid imagery running through my mind. Aaron’s lanky body wrapped around her. A woman with my face who wasn’t me. Did she kiss like me, fuck like me? Was she better than me?
With an animalistic cry, I tore the sheets off and threw them to the floor.
My phone started ringing.
Private number again.
“Why do you keep calling me? What do you want?” I screamed.
“Miss Kovac? This is Moira Bowell, from Appletree?”
Every sentence seemed to have a question mark added in the end. But could I really blame Moira for her wariness after my unhinged greeting?
“Oh, yes, hi,” I said, horribly embarrassed.
I had been applying for preschool jobs on the downlow for months now. Aside from lucking out and landing a directorial position for which I was most definitely under-qualified, I was hoping to progress my career by becoming a Lead Teacher. It felt like ages since I’d applied for a role at Appletree. I assumed their silence meant I wasn’t deemed worthy of an interview. But as Moira kept talking, I had to readjust my perception of reality. Not only was Appletree’s director keen to interview me, I was a top-listed candidate. It turned out they had been trying to get in touch with me for the past few weeks, and they were hoping to set up the interview as soon as possible. Like, this Monday.
By the end of the call, I couldn’t hide my excitement. I was near tears, my relief palpable. After Moira wished me good luck and hung up, I was in high spirits, my fears and suspicions pushed to the back of my mind.