Every Time My Life Fell Apart, I Saw the Same Pink Umbrella – I Never Expected Who Was Behind It

I thought I was losing my mind. Every time my life fell apart, I saw her — a woman with the exact pink umbrella I bought in Tokyo. Limited edition. No one else should have it.

Then everything spiraled: anonymous messages revealing private details, “accidents,” a break-in where someone trashed my home and spray-painted DISGUSTING DIRTY PIG on the wall. And outside, in the rain, I saw the pink umbrella again.

My best friend Harper took me to a cabin to “calm down.” But while she and her partner were out, I opened a closet and found hundreds of photos of me — taken in secret. Notes. Timestamps. Plans.

And in their car… the umbrella.

When I confronted Harper, she broke. She admitted to everything — the stalking, the break-in, the messages. “You were drifting away,” she cried. “I wanted you to need me. I wanted you to stay.”

The police got involved. Harper left for treatment. I rebuilt my life and eventually married Liam, finally feeling safe again.

Then, at my wedding, an unknown number texted:

I still think about you. And I still have the umbrella.

A week later, a box arrived.

Inside: the pink umbrella, snapped in half.

A note read:

“Now you can finally forget me.”