Chapter Eighteen: Focus Then Run

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Most romance novels offer an easy depiction of love. Woman meets man, man pursues woman, and woman falls for man. But what romance novels neglect to mention is that love doesn't work that way.

Love is constantly differentiating between infatuation and longing. Many romance novels also neglect the fact that many people fall for the idea of love and not always love itself.

Although I myself never truly paid attention to those unavailing novels, I have often found myself intrigued by them. I even, once upon a time believed I was featured in one.

Once upon a time I was the woman who met the man. The man swayed me with his dashingly beautiful grey irises and comforting baritone. And of course, I the woman eventually fell for the man. But as mentioned before, my novel was of the twisted variety.

And because my novel was not of the habitual, I fell hard. But I never landed. That isn't even the darkest part of my story. The darkest part is that the novel is still being written.

"Are you listening, Miss Heart?"

I inhale deeply and nod, forcing a smile as I straighten my papers for the millionth time.

Today marks a month since my brief encounter with Jason. I have yet to see him again or received anything in my mailbox that could be deemed threatening. It was expected, but it has not happened - yet.

I should be relieved as it could possibly mean that he has left. But my unfortunate reoccurring nightmares causes me to be anything but. I know he is still in San Francisco. He is just waiting.

Waiting on my vulnerability. He may just be waiting on me to come to him. Which ever one it is, I am not the least bit prepared.

I have yet to tell Timothy about Jason and I believe that is eating me alive. I want to tell him but my fear just hampers me from doing so.

Another augment to my burdens is my ardent and very pregnant sister. Karen has been constantly trying to coax me into informing the bluecoats; she wants me to file a police report on Jason.

As feasible as that could be for me, I know that filing a police report on a man, who is seemingly innocent in this situation, would be absolutely ludicrous. I would be cackled right out of their office. But alas, I know of nothing else that I can do to shake this nightmare.

"I'm listening. Can uh--I'm calling a break. I need a minute." I maintain my synthetic smile, focusing on my perfectly stacked papers.

Without protest, the obviously concerned blonde makes quick work of her own papers. Quietly she stands from her chair pausing briefly to look to me for assurance. I allow her a moment to look into my eyes before she frowns and scurries away.

I have not been focused lately. I have not been completely focused for that all of a month. I wish I would find my inner mhamò and do the very thing I am afraid of.

You have to tell him, Autumn.

I release a exasperated sigh and glance to my ceiling helplessly.

It is not that easy. It should be but I am a emotionally battered fawn in his eyes. And no matter how hard I try to portray myself as elegant doe, he knows the truth. Therefore if I tell him about my past with Jason, he will always view me as that God forsaken fragile fawn.

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