“Do you think that they feel distressed by you following them?”
“They never know.”
My head bobs up and down mechanically. Then I tilt my head to the side. “So, what is it you would like my help with?”
He runs a hand through his dark hair, exhaling sharply. “I don’t want to be this person.” His gaze locks onto mine, something unreadable in his expression. “But I don’t know how to stop.”
The almost pleading tone to his words gives me pause. He seems genuinely haunted by his actions. There’s something behind his eyes, a pain that’s hard to miss.
“Okay, I think it’s probably best we start at the beginning. When did this… compulsion start?”
He blinks at me. “You’re going to help me?”
My face screws up in confusion, brows knotting. “Of course, that’s what I’m here for.”
His mouth parts, but no words escape. He exhales. Then, he begins to tell me his story.
“Jenny.” He smiles wistfully, and I wonder if he’s picturing her in his head. “I was seventeen the first time I saw her. She was sitting on a park bench reading a book. People were just walking past her, not noticing her. But I did. She had this way of tucking her blonde hair behind her ear every few seconds, like she was too focused on what she was reading to realise what she was doing.”
He pauses, sharp jaw tightening for a brief moment before he continues. “What really got to me, though, were her eyes—the same piercing green as my mother’s.
“After that I began to notice her a lot.” His gaze flicks up to mine, assessing my reaction. “She went to my school. I’d see her in the corridors, and it would become the highlight of my day.
“At first it was just little things. Sitting near her in the library. Taking the long way to class just to pass her locker. Memorising the routes she took home.
“And, I followed her.”
I keep my expression neutral while my stomach knots.
His voice drops to a whisper. “That’s when I knew I wasn’t normal.”
I don’t speak for a minute, processing his words.
“What happened to Jenny?”
His expression turns sour. “She disappeared.”
A heavy silence settles between us.
I blink. “Disappeared?”
He nods, jaw clenching. “One day, she was just… gone.” His hands flex on his thighs, like he’s trying to hold onto something. “Her parents were crying, their faces crumpled and hollow. Then they left too. It was like she was never there.”
A chill runs through me. “Did you ever find out what happened?”
His throat bobs as he swallows. “No. But I tried. For years.” His gaze locks on mine. “I still do.”
My breath catches. “You still look for her?”
A dark chuckle escapes him. “Of course. Wouldn’t you?”
Eli
She’s not looking at me with disgust.
This doctor.
Thiswoman.