Unwritten Obsession - Joe Goldberg

Chapter Ten: Watching the World Burn

Joe

She felt me today. I know it.

The way Juliet glanced over her shoulder as she left the café, her head tilting slightly, her steps quickening—she knows someone is there.

Someone. Me.

But she didn't see me, not really. I'm too careful for that. She has no idea how much I've studied her, how well I know her habits, her patterns. She doesn't understand that I've been her shadow, not to harm her but to protect her.

But it's more than that now. Her doubt is growing, a wall forming between us, and I can't let that happen. She needs me—more than she even realizes.

I walk the familiar streets back toward Libris & Co., my thoughts swirling. The bookshop has always been my sanctuary, my place of order and control, but lately, it feels... irrelevant. Juliet is my sanctuary now. My project. My reason.

And I'm losing her.

Juliet

The sun is setting by the time I reach my apartment, the fading light casting long shadows across the hallway. I close the door behind me with a shaky breath, locking it twice, my hands trembling.

The feeling hasn't left me. That prickling sensation, like eyes on the back of my neck.

Maybe I'm just tired. Maybe it's the stress of everything—the writing, the loneliness, the strange intensity of Joe's friendship. But deep down, I know it's more than that.

I toss my bag onto the couch and head to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water. The apartment feels too quiet, the silence oppressive. I glance at the windows, the blinds drawn tightly shut.

Still, I can't shake the thought that someone could be out there, watching.

I set the glass down with a clatter, gripping the counter to steady myself. "Get a grip, Juliet," I mutter under my breath. "You're being ridiculous."

But even as I say it, I know I don't believe it.

Joe

I wait until the light in her apartment flickers on, my usual spot across the street giving me the perfect vantage point. I've spent hours here before, sitting in the shadows, watching her silhouette move behind the curtains.

Tonight, she's restless. I can see it in the way she paces, her movements quick and jittery. She's anxious. Nervous. And I can't decide if it's because of me or because of whatever demons she's battling in her mind.

I should feel guilty for this. For watching her like this. But I don't.

It's not about control. It's about connection.

Juliet has been alone for too long, trapped in her own head, and I'm the only one who sees that. The only one who can pull her out of it. She'll see that, too, eventually.

But not if she pulls away. Not if she keeps doubting me.

I pull out my phone, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. A simple message—something reassuring, something to remind her that I'm here for her.

"You okay? I've been thinking about you."

I hesitate for a moment before hitting send.

I know she won't reply right away. She never does when she's like this. But I also know she'll read it. She'll see it and know I'm there, know she's not alone.

And maybe that's enough. For now.

Juliet

The buzz of my phone jolts me out of my thoughts, the sound unnervingly loud in the stillness of the apartment. I grab it from the counter, my stomach twisting when I see Joe's name on the screen.

"You okay? I've been thinking about you."

I stare at the message, my thumb hovering over the reply button. Part of me wants to answer, to tell him I'm fine, to thank him for checking in. But another part of me—the part that's been growing louder with each passing day—wants to delete the message and block his number.

I don't know what to do.

Joe's been nothing but kind to me. Supportive. Thoughtful. But it's starting to feel like too much, like he's always there, waiting in the wings, ready to step in whenever I falter.

And I don't know if that's comforting or terrifying.

I set the phone down without responding, turning away from it like it's a bomb about to go off.

I need to clear my head.

Joe

No reply.

I feel the sting of it like a physical blow, my chest tightening as I stare at the screen. She's shutting me out, and I don't know why.

But I can fix this. I've done it before, and I can do it again. Juliet just needs a little reminder—a little nudge in the right direction.

I glance up at her window, my mind already racing with possibilities. There's always a way to break through, to show her that she doesn't have to face this alone.

I just have to figure out what it is.

Juliet

The night stretches on, the hours ticking by in heavy silence. I try to write, to lose myself in the flow of words, but nothing comes.

I keep thinking about Joe. About the way he looks at me, the way he always seems to know what I'm feeling.

It's too much.

I push the notebook aside, grabbing my phone again. My finger hovers over his message, the unanswered words staring back at me like an accusation.

Finally, I type out a response, quick and simple:

"I'm fine. Just tired. Thanks for checking in."

I hit send before I can overthink it, my chest tightening as the message disappears.

I don't know what I'm doing. But I do know one thing.

Something has to change.