TWISTED OBSESSION

Chapter 4: The First Encounter

The sharp sound of my alarm jolts me awake, tearing me from the depths of sleep. Groggy and disoriented, I fumble to turn it off, letting out a long sigh as I stretch, feeling the familiar ache in my muscles. The early morning light filters through the blinds, casting a gentle glow over the room. I push myself out of bed, running through my mental checklist for the day: open the bakery, prep for the breakfast rush, and try not to let the stress get to me.

In the kitchen, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, mingling with the scents of vanilla and cinnamon. I start preparing the day's pastries, my hands moving with practiced ease as I knead dough and roll out croissants. The soft hum of a radio playing in the background provides a comforting soundtrack to my morning routine.

The bakery opens, and the first customers trickle in, their familiar faces offering a sense of normalcy. I greet them with warm smiles, exchanging pleasantries as I prepare their usual orders. Everything seems to be falling into place.

The bell above the door jingles, breaking the rhythm of my day. I glance up, expecting to see one of my regulars, but instead, I'm met with a striking figure who seems to loom over the entrance. Tall, dark, and exuding an air of cold confidence, he makes a dramatic entrance that catches the attention of everyone in the room.

I approach the counter, trying to keep my expression neutral despite the sudden surge of curiosity. His eyes meet mine, and for a second, I forget how to breathe. There's something in those eyes something sharp, almost predatory. It's unnerving, and yet, I can't look away. It's as if he's daring me to flinch, to show any sign of weakness. But I don't. I won't.

"Good morning," I say, my voice steady. "What can I get for you?"

"A coffee," he says, his voice as cool as his demeanor. "Black."

It's a simple order, but there's something in the way he delivers it that makes me pause. There's no warmth in his voice, no hint of friendliness just a flat, almost demanding tone. "Coming right up," I say, turning away to prepare his order, trying to ignore the way his gaze seems to follow me.

I catch him glancing around the bakery with a dismissive air, as if he's evaluating every aspect of the place. The scrutiny is unsettling, but I do my best to ignore it, focusing on getting his coffee just right.

When I hand him the cup, our fingers brush briefly. The touch is fleeting, but it sends a jolt through me, something electric and disconcerting. It's ridiculous, really. He's the kind of man I'd normally avoid like the plague. But still, there's this pull, this nagging curiosity that makes me want to know more.

"Anything else?" I ask, my voice clipped as I try to maintain my professionalism.

He shakes his head, his expression as cold as ever. "No, that'll be all."

He turns to leave, but not before letting his gaze linger on me one last time. There's something almost hunting in the way he looks at me, a cold calculation that makes me shiver. I watch him walk out, the bell jingling again as he disappears down the street.

The rest of the morning passes in a blur, but I can't shake the feeling that something unsettling has happened. I try to focus on the tasks at hand, but my thoughts keep drifting back to him. Why did his presence affect me so much? Why do I find myself replaying our interaction over and over in my mind?

By early afternoon, the bakery is quieter, and I have a moment to catch my breath. I'm wiping down the counter when Grace walks in, her usual cheerful smile brightening the room.

"Hey, Lily!" she calls out. "How's your day going?"

I force a smile, though I can't shake the lingering tension from the morning. "Hey, Grace. It's been a bit of a mixed bag. Had a strange customer earlier."

"Oh?" Grace raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "What happened?"

I recount the encounter, trying to sound casual but unable to hide the irritation in my voice. "He was so cold, almost... arrogant. Didn't seem to care about anything here, just came in for a coffee and left."

Grace chuckles, shaking her head. "Sounds like someone who doesn't appreciate the finer things in life. But hey, it's just one customer. Don't let it get to you."

"Yeah, you're right," I say, though I'm still preoccupied with the encounter. "It's just... I don't know. There was something about him that didn't sit right with me."

Grace gives me a sympathetic look. "Maybe it's just one of those days. You know how it is."

As the day wears on, I keep an eye out for any sign of him returning, but he never shows. I'm left with a strange mix of frustration and curiosity. What kind of person was he really? And why does his presence linger in my thoughts like an unwelcome shadow?

When the bakery finally closes, I'm still mulling over the morning's events as I lock up and turn off the lights. There's a part of me that wants to forget about him, to move on and focus on tomorrow. But another part of me the part that can't ignore the odd pull he had on me feels like this isn't the end.

As I head home, I can't shake the feeling that this man Ethan, as I later learned from the register has somehow become a part of my world, whether I want him to be or not. And as the evening settles in, I'm left with a gnawing sense of anticipation, knowing that this encounter was maybe just the beginning.