Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Because of my nightly visits, I know more about jewelry than any man in my profession should know. Firefighters know fires and smoke, not gold and silver. But Chloe’s passion was infectious, and I found myself drawn to her more and more as each addicting night took hold.
I know every detail of her curvy frame, the way she sat upright when showing off a particularly dazzling piece, or how she would tuck a loose strand of dark-brown hair behind her ear when pondering about some jewelry design.
I’ve memorized her schedule, her mannerisms, the way her eyes light up when she’s truly excited about a piece. It’s become an obsession, watching her jewelry videos late into the night, my phone screen illuminating my face in the darkness of my apartment.
Except for the times, like now, that I stand outside her window in the cold. Watching. Obsessing. Stalking.
I’ve viewed her videos so many times that I can practically lip-sync along with her enthusiastic descriptions. My breath fogs the air as I inch closer, careful to stay hidden. I should leave. I know I should. But I can’t tear myself away from the warm glow of her room, the sight of her biting her lower lip in concentration. Just a few more minutes, I tell myself. Just a little longer.
“Next up,” I hear her say. “I have something from my personal collection.”
She reaches for a small, velvet box and cradles it carefully in her hands.
“My mother’s,” she murmurs to the camera with a softness in her voice that makes my heart clench. “I guess I’m sharing this with you guys because . . . well, it’s the holiday season. And she always loved the holidays. She wasn’t one to dress up or get extra fancy, but the holidays were the one time when she would. Jewelry was always part of it.”
She opens the box slowly, careful not to disrupt the contents within. I strain my eyes to see from my vantage point.
Inside is a ring, a gemstone brilliantly catching and refracting the light from her lamp. A blue sapphire, cut in the shape of an oval surrounded by little diamonds, glints back at me.
“It’s not the most valuable piece in the world,” Chloe says softly, almost reverently. She lifts it out of its velvet confines to show it off to her followers. “But it was hers. And now it’s mine.”
A pang of guilt hits me like a punch to the gut as I realize the depth of my intrusion. Despite the physical distance, despite the hidden nature of my presence, I’m invading one of her most intimate moments—sharing something personal about her family.
Yes, she’s telling all her viewers, but she isn’t telling me.
Yet, I can’t tear away from this scene as she gingerly puts on her mother’s ring on her finger. Even from my distance, I can see her eyes well up with tears even as she tries to keep her composure.
“But that’s enough about me.” She suddenly blinks away the wetness in her eyes and forces a smile for her audience. “Let’s move onto something brighter.”
She reaches for another item from her table, but I find myself unable to concentrate on what she’s saying next.
My thoughts are mired in guilt, confusion, a longing I’ve been trying to suppress. In the anonymity of the shadows, I fight a silent battle with myself as Chloe continues her show. She isn’t aware of my presence, but here I am privy to every word she speaks, every emotion she displays. But it’s not about me being a silent spectator; it’s also about how these stolen moments are affecting me. How they’re making me feel things I’d never considered before.
“All right, here we go. This one is a bit more fun and traditional for the holidays.” She holds up a pair of reindeer-shaped silver earrings, their antlers adorned with tiny multicolored gems.
Suddenly, my phone vibrates in my pocket, providing an unwelcome distraction. A text from my chief—a structure fire alert. All hands needed. Duty calls. It’s my night off, but it’s not uncommon for me to get the call ins, or my buddies asking if I can cover a shift for them. I’m single, have no kids or family needs, have no real life to speak of, and frankly, I love my job. Other than watching Chloe, I have little else on my plate. Pathetic yes, but the facts.
Good ol’ Jack can bail you out.
Being a workaholic does pay off, however. I get a sweet deal to park my truck at the station a few blocks away from my apartment, which saves me a fortune.
I take one last look at Chloe, etching this moment into the corners of my memory. She’s laughing now, her sorrow from a few moments ago replaced with unbridled joy as she talks about the next piece of jewelry.