11

Life carried on smoothly, day in and day out.

What surprised me most was that even Brandon worked a regular 9-to-5 schedule.

Talk about setting the bar high for the rest of us.

We'd chat occasionally on WhatsApp, but it was always work-related. I figured he was just keeping an eye on his interns.

After work, I headed back to my apartment.

I slid my key into the lock, turned it one and a half times, and the door opened.

My gut immediately tightened.

I tend to have mild OCD when it comes to locking the door—I always double-lock it before I leave.

But this time, only one lock was set.

Standing at the threshold, I held the door ajar and called out, "I see you!"

I didn't dare close the door, scared that if someone was inside, I wouldn't be able to scream for help in time.

There was no response. Grabbing a broomstick nearby, I cautiously stepped in to check every room.

It's a small apartment, just one bedroom, one living room, and a kitchen.

I searched every corner.

When I bent down to check under the bed, my heartbeat thudded in my ears, loud and frantic.

Only after I confirmed there was no one there did I let out a breath of relief.

I double-checked everything before finally locking the door behind me.

I must be losing it lately, getting all paranoid like this.

12

Since it was the weekend, I allowed myself to stay up late, gaming until almost 1 a.m.

Before going to bed, I got up to do my usual door check.

But just as I was about to put my hand on the handle, I heard the unmistakable sound of a key turning in the lock.

I froze and slipped into the kitchen, hiding in the corner.

Please let them have the wrong apartment, I prayed.

But then the first lock clicked open.

My breath hitched as I hit my phone's power button five times in a row, trying to calm my racing heart.

The intruder was deliberate, heading straight for my bedroom.

That gave me just enough time to dash out the door, pulling it shut behind me as I ran down the hallway, screaming, "Help! There's a burglar!"

My voice echoed through the quiet alley, sharp and sudden.

When I finally reached the main road, I gasped for air, my heart pounding from both fear and exertion.

Even though the apartment was in a quiet part of town, it was still a big city, and there were people around.

Seeing the pedestrians pass by, their concerned faces turning toward me, I felt my icy hands start to thaw.

Several passersby stopped to check if I was okay. I told them what happened and called the police.

While I waited for the cops to arrive, I noticed a string of missed calls on my phone—some from familiar numbers, others from strangers.

I quickly texted my brother to let him know I was safe, then sat on the curb, waiting.

Another unknown number flashed on the screen, and I hesitated before answering.

13

A familiar voice came through the phone, soft but laced with concern.

"Emily, are you okay?"

It was Brandon.

"I'm fine. How did you know?" I asked, surprised.

"You sent out an emergency call and then went silent. Your brother got worried and contacted me."

"Sorry about that. I didn't mean to drag you into this. I'm okay now."

"Wait there."

I let out a confused hum. "Huh?"

"I'm on my way. Don't worry."

That single phrase, "Don't worry," felt like an anchor in a storm, instantly calming the chaos inside me.

"Okay," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Don't hang up."

His tone left no room for argument.

"Alright," I said softly.

I kept the phone in my hand, the screen glowing as the call timer slowly ticked away.

14

Once I finished giving my statement to the police, they went upstairs to check things out. A breeze rustled the trees, sending my hair into disarray as I stood under the dim glow of the streetlight, accompanied only by my shadow.

Was I scared?

Of course, I was.

I'd heard plenty of stories about girls living alone being targeted, but I never thought I'd be one of them. Not this soon after stepping into the adult world.

I looked down at my feet and saw two shadows overlapping. Glancing up, I caught sight of Brandon. His gaze scanned me from head to toe, making sure I was okay before he let out a breath of relief.

The police told us they hadn't found the intruder yet. They suggested I stay somewhere else for the night for my own safety.

Brandon mentioned that his sister had an empty apartment nearby, and I could stay there for now.

With no better option, I agreed. He walked me to the apartment and prepared to leave.

I thanked him repeatedly. "Take care on your way back."

But to my surprise, he turned and opened the door across the hall from mine.

Seeing my shocked expression, he chuckled and shrugged. "Well, what can I say? I live right across the hall."

15

The next morning, Brandon brought me breakfast. I had spent the morning looking at listings for a new apartment, and he noticed.

He frowned, clearly not happy about it. "Why not just stay here?"

Earlier, I had already received a message from Maria. She kept insisting that I settle in, saying things like, "We're going to be family soon anyway, don't be shy."

But I don't like feeling indebted to people.

Brandon seemed to guess what I was thinking. His lips curved into a slight smile. "If it makes you uncomfortable, you can pay rent. Same as what you were paying before. The apartment's just sitting empty anyway, so if you move in, I can at least make a little off it.

"The security here is top-notch."

I was starting to waver. Sensing my hesitation, he continued his pitch. "Look, it's super close to the office. You could roll out of bed at 8:30 and still make it to work by 9.

"There's also a ton of great food nearby. And if you don't feel like going out, delivery is just a few minutes away."

I finally gave in.

The place I'd been renting was pretty far from downtown, and I paid about $1,000 a month. I offered Brandon $2,000 for this place—still a great deal, considering the amenities and location. He protested at first but eventually gave in.

Brandon helped me move in quickly—almost as if he was worried I'd change my mind. By the end of the day, I was all settled.

In my mind, a boss had always seemed like a distant, imposing figure. I never imagined living next door to him would feel so... normal.

Brandon would often bring me food, and I'd return the favor from time to time. It became this fun little exchange, like opening mystery boxes every time.

16

One evening, I was trying to enjoy dinner, but "enjoy" was a stretch. As much as I love good food, I'd gotten tired of the nearby takeout options. And let's be honest—my own cooking wasn't anything to brag about.

As I was heading back to my apartment with some takeout, I ran into Brandon in the elevator. He was carrying groceries. We greeted each other casually.

During winter break, he had been helping me with my thesis, and we'd grown a bit closer. I'd even stopped calling him "boss" and started referring to him as Brandon since he insisted he wasn't the typical serious, stiff boss.

In the elevator, his eyes suddenly fixed on me a little too intensely. "Emily, I bought too many groceries. Want to come over for dinner? It'll just go to waste otherwise."

I hesitated for a moment.

Before I could even think of a response, he added, "If you don't say anything, I'll take that as a yes. Go relax for a bit. I'll call you when it's ready."

"But..." I lifted the takeout bag I was holding as if to say I already had dinner.

"Save it for a midnight snack," he replied, leaving me no choice.

Clearly, there was no getting out of this dinner.

Not wanting to just sit around, I hurried over to his place, eager to help with the cooking.

But Brandon quickly shooed me out of the kitchen. "One cook is more than enough in this kitchen.

"Go sit on the couch and relax."

17

"Well?" He raised an eyebrow, looking slightly nervous.

I remembered a joke my professor once told us. A poet, who had never seen the ocean, was completely overwhelmed when he finally laid eyes on it. Staring at its vastness, he exclaimed, "Wow, the ocean is f***ing huge!"

And just like that poet, I couldn't help but blurt out, "This is f***ing delicious!"

Brandon tilted his head, letting out a few low laughs. He rested his chin on his hand and looked at me. "So, are we considering sharing a meal then?

"It's hard to cook for one person without wasting food.

"Two people is just right."

My stomach was already doing backflips, and without thinking, I agreed. "Sure! We can split the cost of the ingredients, but I'll pitch in when it comes time to cook."

Brandon nodded.

18

After work, Brandon and I headed to the grocery store together. As we walked in, I heard some rustling from the bathroom.

I froze in panic. "Did someone break into your place?"

Before I could finish, a shirtless guy wrapped in a towel walked out of the bathroom, the towel slipping slightly as he dried his hair. "Why do I hear a girl's voice coming from your room?"

Brandon quickly pulled me closer, catching me off guard. I stumbled into his embrace, my breath hitching as his warm breath tickled my neck.

"Put on some clothes," he called out, tossing a potato at the guy while keeping his tone cool.

"Come on, Brandon! I just got out of the shower! Wait... is there really a girl here?"

The guy turned back to get dressed, and I hurriedly stepped out of Brandon's arms.