Social media can weave itself into your life and relationships unexpectedly. Most of the time, it’s harmless—just cute pictures and updates. But sometimes, it can take a chilling turn.

Mark and I had been dating for almost a year. He was the ideal boyfriend—sweet, funny, and thoughtful. One afternoon while hiking, we snapped a cute picture together, and I posted it with the caption, “Just me and my favorite person on our latest adventure!” I hit share, excited to share our joy.

But ten minutes later, a notification made my stomach drop. It wasn’t a like or comment; it was a message: “YOU MUST RUN FROM HIM. NOW.”

I stared at my phone, heart racing. Who would send something like that? The profile was blank—no info, no photos. I glanced at Mark, who was loading our backpacks into the car, completely unaware of my panic. Should I tell him?

Another message arrived: “Don’t tell Mark anything. Smile, stay calm, and don’t provoke him. You have no idea what he’s capable of. Got it?”

Blood drained from my face. What was going on? Mark looked like the man I loved, but the messages were unsettling. I decided to play along for now.

Forcing a smile, I walked over to him. “Ready to head home?”

He gave me a curious look. “Everything okay?”

“Just my mom texting. I’ll deal with it later,” I replied, trying to sound calm.

That night, I couldn’t shake the messages. They made me question everything. Mark had always been loving, but what if there was a darker side?

Over the next few days, things felt off. Mark would stare at me, and it made me uneasy. One night, while reading on the couch, I caught him watching me. When I asked if something was wrong, he shrugged it off, but my unease grew.

Then, another message popped up: “Meet me at Bayou Bakery tomorrow at 2 p.m. I’ll give you the evidence. Don’t tell Mark.”

My hands shook as I read it. I needed to know the truth but didn’t want to lie to Mark. Over breakfast, I tried to sound casual. “I’m meeting my mom for lunch tomorrow.”

Mark looked up. “You didn’t mention that.”

“It was a last-minute thing,” I said quickly.

The next day, I headed to Bayou Bakery, my stomach in knots. As I walked out, I felt Mark’s eyes on me. I arrived early and nervously scanned the room, but just as I was about to leave, the door opened—and Mark walked in.

“Ellie?” He looked confused. “I thought you were meeting your mom.”

“Why are you here?” I asked, throat dry.

“I got a message. Someone said I needed to see something about you.”

Before I could respond, Andrew, a mutual friend, walked in, grinning. “Surprise!”

Mark and I stared at him in disbelief.

“Andrew, what the hell?” I demanded, shaking with anger.

“It was just a prank. Or, more accurately, a test.”

“A test?” Mark’s voice was cold. “You scared us.”

Andrew shrugged. “I wanted to see if you really trusted each other.”

I felt my blood boil. “You made me think Mark was dangerous!”

Andrew held up his hands. “Alright, maybe I went too far. But the point is, instead of talking, you believed anonymous messages.”

I glanced at Mark, realizing the painful truth in Andrew’s words. We let fear and doubt get in the way of trust.

As we left, Mark and I were quiet. Finally, I broke the silence. “Do you think Andrew was right?”

Mark sighed. “Maybe. We didn’t talk. We let a few messages get in our heads.”

Trust isn’t something to take lightly. While Andrew’s prank was cruel, it showed us that to keep our relationship strong, we needed to confront our fears—together.