After that day, things between Ryan and me began to shift.We spent time together like friends, sharing stories from work, venting about bad days, grabbing the occasional meal, going for walks.Then, one night, my phone erupted.Text after text from unknown numbers, each carrying blurry, oddly-angled photos of me at the hospital, me heading home. Clearly taken without my knowledge.The last message was unsigned: a long, rambling rant laced with venom and the sloppy syntax of someone who'd been drinking, cursing me for being heartless, then abruptly begging me to come back, peppered with crying emojis.A cold wave of revulsion crawled up my spine.I knew exactly who it was.He'd switched tactics, going for something worse, more pathetic, and more relentless.This time, I didn't hesitate.I screenshotted every text and photo, packaged them together, and sent a measured, professional email to Evan's agent."Mr. Hunter, this is a follow-up reminder. Evan Cole's continued harassment, stalki
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