Stalked

I walk into the gymnasium with Benjamin at my side. The lights are off and there's a disco ball attached to the ceiling that's turning slowly. Pop music plays softly in the background as people mill around holding punch cups and reminiscing. I'm giddy as can be for our 10 year high school reunion, but Ben looks like he's about to watch his puppy get put down. He keeps glancing around nervously, probably for a high school ex or something. I dismiss his weird behavior and survey the scene some more.

"Ben?" calls someone behind us. We turn around curiously to find the speaker. "Ben!" repeats the same voice. It's coming from a man in a black and yellow varsity jacket that looks a little bit tight. His hair is a dark brown but its hard to tell his eye color because of the lighting. He grins at Benjamin. "My man!" he says as he wraps my husband into a big hug. Ben returns it without the man's enthusiasm. Behind him is a group of men dressed in similar varsity jackets. 

I clear my throat and the two of them pull away from the hug. "Babe, can you introduce us?" I ask after they stand there silently for a few seconds. I stick out my hand to shake the man's hand.

"Wait a second," the brown-haired man says. "Is that a ring I see?" I blush and show it off a bit because I adore it so much. I'd wanted the exact ring ever since the thought of being married to anyone crossed my mind. 

"Six years strong," I announce while I wrap my other arm around Ben and smile. The stranger looks back at the group behind him. 

"Ben, you married the Emma Sophia Valdez?" he asks in bewilderment. I furrow my brow and carefully study the group of men. How do they know me and my full name? They almost look familiar, but I can't pinpoint why.

"I gotta go to the bathroom, Em," Ben quickly says to me. "Come on." Although confused, I trail behind him and I can feel the eyes of the creepy men on us as we briskly walk away. "Stupid high school bullies really never change," Ben sighs sadly as we continue our walk out of the gym and into the hallway. I pat his shoulder comfortingly and he glances back at me and smiles. He heads into the hallway bathroom and I wait outside of it.

I'm left alone with my thoughts and I can't help but wonder how those strange 'bullies' knew my name. 

"Emma!" shouts a familiar voice in a frenzy from down the hallway, followed by the sound of multiple pairs of shoes against the hallway tiles. I turn and see the bullies from earlier in a full out sprint towards me. 

Before I can scold them, the same brown-haired man from before speaks. "I'm Harlow," he introduces quickly. "We're here to save you."

"Save me?" I ask in alarm. "From what?"

"Shhhh," he warns as he puts one finger to his lips and points to the bathroom with his spare hand. He continues before I can demand an explanation. "I am so so sorry about earlier, but I was Benjamin's best friend for a while in high school. Before he um, dove off the deep end." I scoff and fold my arms to display my obvious impatience. "I-I know your full name becau-" he falters nervously.

"Spit it out," I order quickly as I glance to the bathroom.

"Because Benjamin-" he falters one last time. "He stalked you all throughout high school."

"What?" I challenge angrily. "How dare-"

"Where did you go on your first date?" he asks.

I sigh in annoyance. "Mick's, my favorite restaurant in town. The one right by the bank on Main Street. We sat in the corner booth, my favorite seat," I state matter-of-factly. The night is still crystal clear in my memory. 

"Honeymoon?" he interrogates. 

"Egypt," I state. "Because I've always been a closeted nerd for Egyptian..." I pause. "That doesn't mean much, he said he's been interested in Egypt all of his life before I ever said anything about it."

Harlow raises one eyebrow and glances again at the bathroom. "What was the first present he ever bought you?" he tries.

"Lip gloss," I remember. "I saw it at the mall when I was shopping with my mom and thought it was the cutest thing but I didn't have any cash to buy it at the time."

"Did you ever mention it to him?" he asks.

"I don't remember, probably," I tell him stubbornly even though I remember distinctly never telling him a single word about it. My heart rate picks up the pace a little bit. 

"How did he ask you to marry him?" he questions.

"We went to a fancy restaurant and afterwards we went stargazing on a hill at the park and he proposed there under the starlight," I recall happily. "It was so romantic and I've always dreamed of being proposed to like tha-" I stop right in my tracks. Harlow and his friends drill holes into me with their stares. 

I gulp. "Harlow, you swear to me you're telling the truth?" He nods solemnly. 

"We need to get you out of here," he says as he grabs my hand and starts dragging me to the door. 

"Ben stalked me..." I whisper to myself in a terrified daze. "There's no way. He knew exactly how to get to my heart because he knew everything about me and and... I fell right for it and..."

Suddenly, a door behind us slams dramatically. "What's going on here?" I hear Ben ask angrily. We all turn around slowly. "First you have to embarrass me, then you try to steal my wife? Do you people ever get enough of-" he rambles 

"Ben," I interrupt. "Honey, is-is this true?" We're about 15 feet apart now and we both stand still.

"What?" Ben asks in confusion. His face flickers for a second. "Em, whatever they told you, whatever they did to you, whatever they said, you can't believe them. They're just bullies, they live for this!"

"Ben," I say again with more confidence this time. "Did you-" A tear rolls down my cheek and my voice cracks. "Did you stalk me in high school? And even college?" He opens his mouth but I hold up my hand to silence him. "If you lie, I will know. I will never speak to you again and I'll grab divorce papers on my way home." On my left hand that I'm holding up is my wedding ring. The one I always wanted... My hand begins to shake so I return it back to my side.

Behind me, the group of men stand protectively, ready to pounce if Ben moves.

"Oh Emma," he says with a chilling tone as cold as ice. "You were never supposed to know."