“Are you going to come inside?” she asks, breaking me from the spell I was under. It’s the simplest question. An invitation inside her home—the house I own. But it’s like she’s reached into my brain and turned everything upside down. Since when do I walk in here with an invitation? Since when does the woman I’ve stalked greet me with good news and a lustful stare? None of this makes sense. I don’t deserve any of it.
