I felt responsible. I made him return to Florida with me; if he’d stayed in New Orleans he’s still have his things, but we might not have survived as a couple if he did. I didn’t think I could be any sadder than I was when we were driving here, but I could never have imagined this—Merry Christmas and Happy fucking New Year.

Kayden placed a call to the police to report a burglary. We searched the entire apartment while we waited, but very little remained. The kitchen had been stripped, the bathroom cleared of everything except one towel and a partially used body wash, and his bedroom was ransacked, even his jar of change had disappeared.

“I know it was that fucking bastard, Tim. The other guys wouldn’t do this to me, I’ve known them too long.” He shook his head in disbelief. “He didn’t have a dime when he started living here, Tom told me he quit right after they left. He was the last one in the apartment.”

The police officers wrote down all the missing items and asked basic questions. They would file a report, but didn’t bother to take fingerprints from the doors or surfaces in the room. They gave us a copy of the report number in case Kayden needed it later. They said that his property had probably been sold off by now, no hope of recovering it.

He had nothing left but me.

“What do you want to do, Sophia?” he asked.

“I’m exhausted. Can we go to sleep and figure everything out tomorrow?” I asked him, rubbing my eyes.

“Yes, let me lock up tight first,” he said as he checked the front door and then proceeded to the kitchen.

“What are you getting?” I asked him as he was going through the drawers.

“A knife, I want to keep it on the nightstand just in case,” he said as he picked a shiny large knife out of the drawer, “one more thing.” He walked to the door and grabbed a chair nearby and jammed it under the doorknob.

“Paranoid much?” I asked him.

“We can’t be too careful, especially with you here. I have no idea who was in here or has a key,” he said to me as he began to shut off the lights. “Come on baby, I need to hold you.”

We crawled in bed and embraced each other in silence. There was no television for background noise, no guys laughing in the living room being obnoxious, just silence. I snuggled against Kayden wrapping my body around his, enveloping him until he fell asleep.

I woke to Kayden’s voice; he was talking to someone on the phone. “No one contacted me. When was it auctioned off?” he asked. I heard the sound of his fist slamming down on the kitchen table out of frustration. Kayden muttered a few more words before he appeared in the bedroom doorway.

“What happened, sweetheart?” I asked rubbing my eyes.

“They towed my truck over six weeks ago and when I never contacted the towing company, they auctioned it off last week.” His face was pale and he looked like he was going to be sick.

“We’ll figure something out. Fucking shit, it’s all because of me,” I said a tear streaming down my cheek.

“Just another fucked thing in my life, thank God for you, Sophia. Come on; let’s get the fuck out of this place. I want to go see Bourbon,” he said, holding out his hand to me.

I got dressed and put on my make-up while Kayden went to the mailbox to see what had accumulated since the guys had left. As he rifled through the pile, a pink envelope fell on the table. It was addressed to him, but I didn’t see a return address.

“What is it?” I asked him out of curiosity.

“I don’t know, but it’s to me. There’s no address, but I know the handwriting,” he replied with a hint of anger.

“Do I even have to ask?” I asked. I knew in that moment that he hadn’t being entirely truthful, Lisa was still a problem, a thorn in my ass. Why didn’t he tell me?

“Yes, it’s Lisa’s handwriting. I didn’t think she knew where I lived. I have been so careful about never letting anyone have this address. My mother doesn’t even know where I live,” he said to me as he flipped the envelope over and ripped it open.

A picture was the first item to fall. It was a photo of two people, Kayden and Lisa, the same fucking photo she texted me many months ago. He pulled out a card, and a letter fell, landing on top of the photograph. I didn’t move to pick it up. I didn’t like even having the image of that photo in my mind, let alone the contents of a letter. Kayden grabbed the letter, but didn’t open it. He opened the card and sat in silence as he read the message.

“Is it from her or one you sent her?” I asked him pissed off.

“It’s from her.” He looked stunned and worried.

“What did she say?” I could feel my heart starting to pound harder in my chest.

“Read it,” he said, handing me the card.

Kayden,

I’ll find you… no matter where you are. You’re MINE, and I’m yours—always. We’re meant to be together. You can’t deny fate or destiny. We’ll be together again… I promise you.

Love Always,

Lisa

The bitch couldn’t take a hint. She was relentless, like a rabid dog unwilling to stop. “What’s in the letter?” I asked him, still holding the card in my hand.

“It’s a letter I wrote to her after I was arrested,” he said to me, putting the letter back in the envelope with the photo.

“I don’t want to read it. I can only imagine what it says. I’m sure you declared your undying love for her, and now she’s reminding you.’ I threw the card on the table.

“Have you told your probation officer that she has been contacting you?”

“No, I don’t think he’ll care,” he said. He placed everything back into the envelope. He walked over to the trash can and threw all the mail, including the pink envelope, inside.

“Don’t throw that out. You need to talk to him about her and show him all the messages she’s sent you, including the ones online,” I said.

“I’ll think about it, Sophia. I could get in trouble for any response I’ve sent to her,” he said to me, worry in his eyes.

“Kayden, she isn’t going to stop… she’ll always be between us. You need to stop her. This is the only way right now,” I told him as I reached in, pulling out the pink envelope. “This is coming home with us. It’s evidence; maybe we can use her words against her.”

“Fine, I’ll think about talking to him,” he said to me as he disappeared into the bedroom.

I had to try to put her out of my mind. I needed to convince him to share her messages with his probation officer; she just couldn’t be allowed to torment him this way. She had played enough games, but she wouldn’t come out the winner. I needed to get that photograph out of my mind and I needed coffee.

We headed to the French Quarter and straight to Café du Monde. New Orleans had grown colder since we last spent time there. The coffee helped warm my hands as we strolled down Bourbon Street. A loud noise caught my attention drawing my eyes down the street.

Police cars and motorcycles cleared the way, leading a procession of people down Bourbon. Above the roar of the motorcycles I could hear the faint sound of a Dixie band. “Look, Kayden,” I said, pointing down the street. He grabbed my arm, moving me on the sidewalk and out of the path of the oncoming crowd. “What is it?”

“It’s a wedding, sometimes weddings march down Bourbon just as they do for a funeral. They’re all celebrations of life,” he replied, holding my hand.

I watched, riveted to the scene in front of me. A parade of people danced down the street following the band on their journey. The bride wore a mask and carried a white umbrella, the groom on his tuxedo with a matching black mask covering his eyes. They laughed and danced as they moved down the street. The wedding guests followed behind cloaked in the same facial mask, dancing and singing. People cheered on the sidewalk as the parade danced past. At the end of the parade two sets of parents were carried in a rickshaw, waving their hankies in the air, smiles decorating their faces.