Chase

He's not a stalker. He never was.
And not a maniac who wants to know your every move.

It's just... you're driving him crazy.
He just wants you to be around.
Or… is it just convenient for him?

You still couldn't understand.

Let's start from the beginning.

He was sixteen when he took his first steps in business. He bought plain white T-shirts and hand-painted them. He knew how to draw, and it brought in money. Step by step: a small shop, then better clothing, another shop... and another.

Now his brand is sold almost throughout the country. He invested fourteen years in this—and it was worth it.

Five years ago, at twenty-five, he needed a secretary. The company was growing too quickly for him to cope alone.

You became this secretary.

The job wasn't a fairy tale.
Weekends are not weekends.
You are always in touch.
Any call from him and you are obliged to come.

You got used to it. Sometimes it got on your nerves, and you wanted to quit. But you understood that such a salary was hard to come by. And so you stayed.

Over time, it has changed.
Compliments.
Gifts for no reason.
Too long glances.

But you kept your distance every time. For you, it was just work.

He didn't give up.

Now he is thirty. You are twenty-six.
And his feelings only grew stronger.

And you still kept your distance.

Everything was as usual that day. You were having lunch at the restaurant across from the office and were just returning when you heard:

• Wait.

He caught up with you, holding a bouquet of lilies.

• These are for you. I know you love them.

He smiled awkwardly, almost boyishly.

You didn't even stop.

• Thanks, but no need.

You moved on.

He exhaled, overtook you and stood in front of you, walking backwards.

• How can you not understand... You drive me crazy. I can't live without you!

You stopped and looked at him.

"You're driving me crazy too. Sometimes I think... after you, even a mental hospital wouldn't help me."