The evening was soft and golden, the kind of evening she loved. The windows were open, letting the warm autumn air brush through the curtains. On the kitchen table, a half-finished pawpaw sat on a plate, its sweet tropical scent hanging in the room. She was laughing about something silly Theo had said, her head tilted back, the sound light and warm.
Theo leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching her with that half-smile he always had when he was quietly happy. "You like it, don't you?" he asked softly.
She nodded, licking a bit of the golden fruit from her finger. "I can't believe I spent my whole life not knowing this taste existed. You were right."
He grinned. "And I'll keep being right. Just wait — there's more to come. Firsts don't end here."
She wanted to answer, but a loud knock cut through the air — sharp, official, and too heavy for a friendly visit.
Her heartbeat stumbled. Theo straightened, his playful smile fading into alertness. The knocking came again.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
A deep voice called through the door. "Police. Open up, please."
A shiver ran down her spine. She hadn't done anything wrong — but the sound of authority at the door made old fears stir in her chest. Theo glanced at her, calm but serious. "Stay behind me," he murmured.
He opened the door, revealing two uniformed officers. Their expressions were formal, not unkind, but clearly here on business. "Good evening," the older officer said. "We need to ask a few questions."
"Of course," Theo replied smoothly. "About what?"
The second officer, a woman with sharp eyes, scanned the room behind him, then focused on her. "Are you [her name]?"
She nodded slowly. "Yes… I am."
"Can we come in?"
Theo didn't move immediately. His posture changed subtly — protective, grounded. "You can tell us what this is about first," he said, his voice polite but firm.
The officers exchanged a quick look. "There was a disturbance earlier this week involving individuals you were previously connected with. One of them mentioned your name during questioning. We need to clarify your involvement — if any."
Her stomach twisted. She knew exactly who they meant — the people who had hurt her, who had dragged chaos into her past. She hadn't spoken to them in so long… why now?
"I… I don't know what this is about," she said honestly, stepping a little closer to Theo. "I have nothing to do with them anymore."
The officers came in, taking careful, professional steps. They sat at the small table where the half-eaten fruit still lay, the sweet scent oddly clashing with the cold, official tone of the moment. They began asking questions — dates, places, names. Some were sharp. Some were deliberately repeated.
Every word made her chest tighten, not because she was guilty, but because it pulled at old wounds she had tried so hard to close.
Theo stayed right beside her the entire time. His knee brushed hers under the table, steady and warm. Every time her voice faltered, his quiet presence reminded her she wasn't alone anymore.
When the officer brought up one name — a name that had once made her tremble in fear — her hands clenched in her lap. "I have no contact with him," she said firmly. "I want nothing to do with any of them. Whatever they did… I wasn't involved."
Theo's jaw tightened at that name. He didn't interrupt, but the storm in his eyes said everything.
The questioning lasted nearly an hour. The sun set outside, the soft gold turning to heavy twilight. When the officers finally closed their notebooks, the older one softened his tone slightly. "Thank you for cooperating. You're not in trouble. But if anything else comes up — or if they try to contact you — call us immediately. Don't try to handle it alone."
She nodded, numb but grateful when they finally left. The door clicked shut, leaving behind silence that felt too big.
She exhaled shakily, leaning back against the wall. "I thought I was done with all of that," she whispered. "I thought it was over."
Theo moved closer, wrapping his arms around her slowly, as if giving her room to collapse if she needed to. "Hey," he murmured against her hair. "They came to you because they know you're clean. That's all this is. This isn't your past dragging you down. It's the world realizing you were never the problem."
Her hands gripped his shirt tightly. "But just hearing their names… it makes my skin crawl. I don't want any of it near me again."
"It won't be," he said firmly, pulling back to look her in the eye. "I won't let it."
There was no empty promise in his voice. Just a calm, quiet certainty that anchored her trembling heart.
Later that night, they sat together on the couch. She was wrapped in a blanket, a cup of tea warm in her hands. The TV played something quiet in the background, but neither of them was really watching.
Theo took her hand gently. "You know… love isn't just about first tastes and soft moments," he said quietly. "It's about sitting next to someone when the world knocks on the door and brings back ghosts. And saying: not this time. Not alone."
She looked at him, tears pricking at the edges of her eyes — not from fear this time, but from the warmth that grew deeper than she ever expected to find. "You didn't even hesitate," she whispered. "You didn't even let me face it alone for a second."
He smiled faintly, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. "Of course not. That's what being here means. I don't run when it gets dark. I stay."
The night felt different after that. The fear still lingered like a shadow at the edge of her mind — but so did the strength. Not just hers, but his, woven into hers like steady roots.
She whispered before falling asleep, "I think I needed this. Not the fear. But the proof. That I'm not that scared girl anymore. And that you're here."
Theo kissed her forehead. "I'll always be here. And you… you're braver than you think."
A few days passed after the police visit. She tried to pretend everything was normal again — she cooked, went for walks, listened to music, and even found herself laughing at Theo's silly jokes. But somewhere beneath the warmth of their little world, she felt the tension like a thin wire pulled too tight.
Then the first message came.
It was late evening, and she was curled up on the couch, scrolling through her phone absentmindedly. Her breath hitched when she saw the name on the screen.
A name she swore she'd never have to see again.
Unknown Number: "We need to talk. It's serious. Don't ignore this."
For a moment, her hands turned cold. She could almost hear their voice like a ghost in her head, the way they used to corner her with guilt and manipulation. Her chest squeezed, old panic trying to crawl its way back.
Theo noticed. He always noticed. "What happened?" he asked gently, setting his book down.
She showed him the message with shaking fingers. He didn't flinch, didn't question whether it was serious. His expression hardened — protective, calm, but fierce in a way that made her feel safe. "Block the number," he said. "Right now."
"I— but what if—"
"If it was truly serious," Theo interrupted softly, "the police would contact you. Not them. Not this way. They're trying to drag you in again. But you're not theirs anymore."
Her throat tightened. Hearing it said out loud made something deep inside her shiver — not just in fear, but in awakening.
She wasn't theirs anymore.
She blocked the number.
But the world didn't end there. Two days later, one of those old "friends" started spreading whispers in town, twisting stories and painting her as someone involved in things she never touched. People who barely knew her years ago suddenly remembered her name with suspicion.
The police came again — not accusing, but asking questions.
This time, she didn't tremble at the door. She stood next to Theo when they spoke, chin lifted, heart beating strong.
"I'm tired of being scared of ghosts," she told Theo that night, standing on their small balcony, the cool night breeze brushing her hair. The stars were sharp and bright above them.
He stepped behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, resting his chin lightly on her shoulder. "Then don't be. Ghosts can only scare you if you give them space to live."
She exhaled slowly. "I spent so many years surviving. Hiding. Now I want to live. I want to protect what I'm building."
"You will," Theo said. "And you're not doing it alone this time."
The tension escalated when one of those people actually showed up near her street. She saw the familiar shape from the window, just far enough to make her blood run cold. Her hands shook again — but this time, something inside her refused to retreat.
She called the police first. Not him. Not anyone else. She took control.
Theo came out after her, barefoot, his presence quiet but solid like a wall behind her. "You did the right thing," he said simply, his hand resting on her shoulder.
She nodded, her breath steadying. For the first time in years, she wasn't hiding behind someone. She was standing next to them.
When the officers came, the figure was already gone — but a report was made. Her statement was taken. Theo was calm, steady, giving small reassurances with a touch, a glance, a warm word.
That night, she sat on the couch again, but this time her body wasn't trembling. Her heart was beating with something fierce. "I was afraid this would crush me," she whispered. "But it didn't."
Theo looked at her like she was something radiant. "Because you're not breakable anymore," he said quietly. "They don't own a single piece of you now."
She smiled then — tired, but real. "I used to think freedom would mean being alone. But it doesn't. It just means being me again."
He brushed a strand of hair from her face and kissed her forehead softly. "And being with someone who stands beside you, not in front of you."