Long Time, No Stalk

Cora swings her door open to grab the morning paper. Her heart stutters when Marcus stands right there, inches from her porch. He is the guy who once trailed her across three states, the same one who slipped just enough to escape any court paper that might keep him away. Cora moved here hoping three zip codes would shake him, but it only took him six weeks to find the new door. For days after, he lingers outside her windows. When she gardens in the beds by the sidewalk he stares from across the lawn. After her shower he watches steam roll down the glass and the towel slip from her hip. One evening he plants his shoes in the wet earth right under her living-room window to catch a closer view. She notices the prints the next morning and phones the police; they say nothing they can do. Tomorrow Marcus returns with a package, claiming it was left at the wrong house. Cora knows the smirk. She asks flat out what he wants so he will pack up and leave. He calls the move costly, says he might be persuaded if she makes things worth his while. She hates the answer before she gives it, but she will let him have the one thing he chased if it buys her clean getaway.