My Husband Doesn’t Exist Chapter 04
“Mara, relax! You know that guy!”
I had no idea what she was talking about.
Before I could react, she continued.
“You don’t recognize Kyle Prescott?”
Kyle was a college classmate. He’d asked me out once. I turned him down gently.
Beyond that, we had no real connection.
After graduation, we never spoke again.
It was him?
“Mara, I couldn’t stop thinking about that neighbor situation. It was bugging me.”
“Kyle happened to be near your building for something, so I asked him to swing by and pretend to be your husband. Give that neighbor a little scare.”
“I knew you hung a blue shirt today, so I told Kyle to wear a blue one too. Keep up the illusion.”
“He’s a personal trainer. Big guy. Intimidating.”
Jenna laughed, clearly pleased with herself.
I exhaled.
So it was just an old classmate looking out for me. A false alarm.
“When he saw you weren’t home, he left on his own.”
“Kyle’s a really good guy.”
Every strange coincidence suddenly had the most logical explanation.
The tension drained from my body. I stepped into the elevator.
“Jenna, send me Kyle’s contact info. I need to thank him properly.”
Shortly after I hung up, Jenna forwarded his number.
I sent a friend request and tapped on Kyle’s profile picture out of habit.
It was a selfie. Bright smile, warm eyes. And on the right side of his jaw, an unmistakable dark mole.
I remembered now. Back in college, Kyle even had a nickname because of that mole.
I stared at it, and something flashed through my mind. The security footage at the property office.
My hand began to shake around the phone.
I opened my photo gallery and pulled up the screenshot I’d taken of the footage. I zoomed in. Again. Again.
My eyes locked onto the man’s face.
His jawline was clean. Smooth. Nothing there.
That man is not Kyle Prescott.
Then whoever walked into the building, whoever Derek met… who the hell is he?
The elevator reached the sixth floor.
I stood staring at my reinforced front door, and my palms broke out in a cold sweat.
Then, from inside that apartment, the one that should have been completely empty, came a sudden, unprompted sound.
Heavy. Distinct. Rhythmic.
Thud… thud… thud…
Terror flooded every inch of me.
I held my breath, backed toward the elevator, and with trembling fingers opened the camera app.
I looked at the screen.
My scalp went numb.
