Social media has a sneaky way of weaving itself into your life, slipping into your relationships whether you want it to or not. Most of the time, it’s harmless—just cute snapshots and life updates for friends and family. But every so often, it throws a curveball you never saw coming.
Mark and I had been dating for nearly a year. Honestly, he seemed like the ideal boyfriend—kind, thoughtful, and always able to make me laugh, whether we were out on a trail or curled up on the couch for a lazy Sunday. I felt genuinely lucky to have him, so I thought it was finally time to make things “Facebook official.”
One afternoon, while we were hiking, we snapped a photo together. It turned out great—both of us smiling with sunlight glowing behind us. I captioned it, “Just me and my favorite person on our latest adventure!” with a couple of heart emojis. I hit post, excited to share a glimpse of our joy with everyone.
A chill ran down my spine as I stared at the second message. Every instinct screamed at me to run, but where? How? Mark was right there — humming to himself, throwing our things in the trunk like we were just any other happy couple going on a weekend trip. I forced a smile, trying to look normal, like I hadn’t just been warned that the man I loved might be dangerous.
My fingers trembled as I slowly slid my phone into my pocket. My pulse thudded in my ears. I had questions—so many—but no answers. Who was this faceless messenger? And how did they know Mark? More importantly… what did they know that I didn’t?
I climbed into the car, heart hammering, eyes darting to the side mirror, half-expecting someone to appear from the shadows. Mark looked over, gave me that familiar grin. “Ready?”
I nodded.
But I wasn’t. Not even close.
I glanced over at Mark again. He gave me a casual wave and that same warm grin he always wore. He didn’t seem like a threat. But those texts had a weird sense of urgency, and they rattled me enough that I figured it was safer to play along for now.
I forced a smile and made my way to him, trying to keep my tone calm. “You ready?”
“Everything alright?” Mark asked, eyes narrowing slightly as he studied my face.
I pushed down the anxiety rising in my chest. “Yeah, it’s just my mom. I’ll message her later.”
That night, the texts wouldn’t leave me alone. They kept looping through my mind, making me question everything. Mark had always seemed kind, affectionate, genuine. But what if… what if I didn’t know him at all? What if there was something hidden—something darker—just beneath the surface?
Over the next few days, everything started to unravel. Mark grew distant in a way that felt almost eerie. I’d catch him just staring—silent, unmoving, like he was studying me. It wasn’t affectionate or playful. It was… unsettling. One evening, I was curled up on the couch reading, and when I glanced up, there he was again—eyes fixed on me, unblinking. I asked if something was wrong, and he just shrugged, brushing it off like it was nothing. But it didn’t feel like nothing.
Then, the next morning, my phone buzzed with another message from the same anonymous account: “Meet me at Bayou Bakery tomorrow at 2 p.m. I’ll give you the evidence. Don’t tell Mark. Make up an excuse.”
My hands trembled as I read the message. Evidence? Of what? What could someone possibly have on him? I needed answers—but the thought of lying to Mark made my stomach twist. What if he was already onto me? What if he was watching me even more closely than I thought?
“I’m meeting my mom for lunch tomorrow,” I said lightly over breakfast, doing my best to keep my voice steady.
Mark didn’t respond right away—he kept staring into his coffee, as if weighing my words. “Really? That’s the first I’ve heard of it.”
“Oh, yeah,” I said quickly, forcing a smile. “She called last night. Kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing.”
He finally looked up, locking eyes with me. His face gave nothing away. “Alright,” he said slowly, dragging the word out just enough to make me uneasy.
I turned my attention back to my cup, but it was impossible to ignore the heavy silence—or the feeling that his eyes were still on me, searching for cracks in my lie.
I stirred my coffee with a shaky hand, the metal spoon clinking too loudly against the ceramic. I scanned the bakery — couples chatting, a woman tapping away on her laptop, a man reading the paper — all so normal. But not for me. For me, time felt warped, thick with dread.
I checked my phone again. No new messages. No missed calls. Just silence. Had I imagined it all? Was it some twisted prank? Or worse — had they been caught?
Just as I was about to give up and leave, a server approached with a note on a napkin. “This was left at the counter for you,” she said casually, like it wasn’t the most nerve-wracking moment of my life.
My hands trembled as I unfolded the napkin. Scrawled in rushed handwriting were three words:
“He knows. Run.”
I stared at my phone, trying to figure out if this was all some twisted prank. Just as I turned to leave, the door creaked open again—and my heart skipped a beat. It was Mark.
“Ellie?” His voice was careful, puzzled. “Why are you here? Weren’t you supposed to be with your mom?”
My mouth went dry. “I… I thought you were working. Why are you here?”
He came in and took a seat across from me, his eyes scanning the space. “I got a message. Someone told me to come. Said I needed to find out something about you.”
My mind reeled. “Wait—you got a message? About me?”
He nodded, uncertainty clouding his expression. “Yeah. At first, I thought it was a prank or something—but then you started acting off, and I didn’t know what to believe.”
I stared at him, my heart pounding. All this time, he’d been getting messages too? Just like me? None of it made sense. Who would go through this much effort to mess with us?
Before either of us could speak again, the door to the bakery creaked open. I glanced up—and there he was. Andrew, one of our mutual friends, strolling in with a grin stretched across his face like he’d just pulled off the best joke of his life. Without a word, he sauntered over, pulled up a chair, and sat down at our table like he’d been part of this moment the whole time.
“Surprise!” Andrew said with a smug grin.
Mark and I just stared at him, completely stunned.
“Andrew, what the hell is going on?” I snapped, my voice tight with anger and confusion.
Leaning back casually, Andrew’s smile only grew. “Relax. It was just a prank. Well… more like a test.”
“A test?” Mark’s voice dropped, sharp and cold. “You scared the hell out of us. Why would you do that?”
Andrew gave a half-hearted shrug, his confidence faltering just a little. “I’ve seen too many couples fall apart over rumors, lies, and stupid social media games. I just wanted to see if you two actually trusted each other.”
The drive home was nearly silent. Mark gripped the wheel tightly, his jaw clenched. I stared out the window, the city passing in a blur, my thoughts even blurrier.
Andrew’s twisted little experiment had left a crater in our trust — but beneath the wreckage, it forced us to confront something we’d been ignoring: how quickly fear could pull us apart, how easily suspicion slipped in when communication failed.
When we finally got home, Mark sat down at the edge of the couch and looked up at me. “Do you really think I could’ve hurt you?” he asked, his voice quieter than I expected.
I hesitated. “No… but I didn’t know what to believe. And that scares me.”
He nodded slowly. “Same.”
Maybe Andrew’s methods were cruel, even unforgivable. But now we were standing in a space where truth could finally breathe — even if it hurt.
When Mark and I left the bakery, the silence between us was heavy. Neither of us spoke much at first, both of us still processing the shock of everything that had just happened.
Finally, I broke the quiet. “Do you think Andrew was right?”
Mark let out a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair. “I hate to say it, but maybe. We didn’t communicate. We let a few anonymous messages mess with our heads.”
We both knew trust was fragile and shouldn’t be taken for granted. And while Andrew’s prank had been harsh, it taught us a valuable lesson—if we wanted to keep our relationship strong, we had to confront our fears and doubts together, no matter how hard it was.
