Do You Still Love Me When We Meet Again? (Aubrey and Damon) novel Chapter 82

Chapter 82

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Menny

Suddenly, a pair of strong hands wrapped around her arm, pulling her back as she instinctively recoiled, anchoring her frayed nerves. Aubrey’s face went pale. She ducked her head, averting her gaze, and struggled to pull away from the person holding her.

“Aubrey, what’s wrong?” Damon’s tense voice reached her ears.

In that instant, Aubrey’s already terrified heart plummeted. A soft gasp escaped her as she slowly lifted her gaze to him. Pure panic swam in her eyes.

Damon gripped her arms tightly, his gaze filled with concern as he anxiously scanned her from head to toe. “Why do you look so distraught?” he asked, his voice urgent. “What are you so afraid of?”

Aubrey glanced behind her, finding nothing. She looked up at Damon again, her heart slowly calming, “I think someone’s been following me,” she said. “It’s happened a few times now, but I can never see them.”

“Don’t be afraid. I’m right here.”

Aubrey nodded, feeling a measure of relief.

Damon looked down at the noodles, spilled inside the bag, the soup splattered across the pavement. His voice deepened, “Aubrey, you still haven’t had

dinner?”

Aubrey finally registered his words, quickly squatting down to retrieve the bag. The soupy noodles were completely spilled inside, and her hands were already damp from the broth.

Damon pulled a tissue from his pocket, quickly blotting up the soup from the ground before tossing the soiled tissue into a nearby trash can. Then, he took the ruined bag of noodles from her hand and dropped it in too.

“It’s a waste,” Aubrey mumbled. “I could still eat some of it.”

“It’s all spilled, Aubrey. Don’t eat it,” Damon said firmly, pulling out another tissue. He gently took her hand, wiping at her stained fingers.

A tiny shiver ran through Aubrey. She quickly pulled her hand back. “I’ll do it.”

Damon’s hand hung suspended in the air for a few tense seconds before he simply handed her the tissue.

“Thanks,” Aubrey murmured, taking the tissue and looking down as she wiped her hands.

“Let’s go,” Damon said, walking past her.

“Hm?” Aubrey asked, confused, turning to face him. “Where are we going?”

“To the police. We’ll file a report and check the surveillance footage.”

“But I didn’t actually see anyone following me. It was just a feeling.”

Damon’s face was grim, his voice stern. “Whether it was a feeling or not, we’re going to the police station first to make sure you’re safe.”

Aubrey nodded, recognizing the sense in his words. “I can go by myself. You don’t have to come.”

“We’re going together,” Damon stated, already snatching the briefcase from her hand and heading for his car parked by the curb.

Aubrey was a little speechless at his bossy behavior. But mostly, she felt a wave of relief. With Damon by her side, the fear that had been gnawing at her began to recede.

She opened the passenger door, slid into the seat, and buckled her seatbelt.

Damon handed her a chocolate bar. “Nothing else in the car right now, but this should tide you

over.”

The warm amber glow of the car’s interior lights fell on his long, attractive fingers. The black–wrapped chocolate bar, in that moment, felt like a rush of warmth straight to her heart.

“Thank you,” she murmured, taking the chocolate. She leaned back against the seat and lowered her head, tearing open

the wrapper.

Damon started the car and pulled out of the complex, heading towards the nearest police station. Aubrey put the dark chocolate into her mouth. It melted instantly on her tongue, cloyingly sweet.

With the sweet treat, her stomach no longer felt so empty, and she felt a surge of energy.

At the police station, the officer reviewed the surveillance footage. They found no evidence of anyone following her. After reviewing surveillance from the past few days, even on the street she’d felt most afraid on, no suspicious individuals were seen.

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However, one daytime video showed a petite female sanitation worker, wearing a hat, walking relatively close behind her on her route from the complex to the subway entrance. But she only followed for a short distance before stopping in front of a pile of trash, preoccupied with her task of sweeping it into a garbage truck.

It was more like the female sanitation worker had just happened to be going the same way.

Finding nothing solid, the two of them left the local precinct.

Aubrey sank deeper into self–doubt. Was her depression escalating into bipolar disorder? Or worse, was she developing schizophrenia?

But no. No! She’d been on her medication lately, and between her busy job and taking her meds, her condition was actually improving. The physical ymptoms had also begun to recede.

The more she thought about it, the more terrified she became. A numbness spread through her hands, her heart hammering wildly with panic. Lost in her own thoughts, she trailed dazedly behind Damon as they walked toward the car.

Damon halted, turning to face her, about to speak. Only then did he notice Aubrey, her head bowed and lost in a haze of worry, walking straight into

1. im.

He didn’t move to stop her. The impact left Aubrey dazed. She stumbled back a step, her hand flying to her forehead, before looking up. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.

Damon almost wished she’d bumped into him a few more times. “What’s got you so out of it?” he murmured softly.

‘Nothing.”

‘If you’re scared, just move out. I have other places,” Damon said casually. “If you don’t mind, you could even move in with me.”

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