The Road Of Autumn [Interracial/WWBM]✔️

Chapter Twenty-eight: The Call

Monday came by sooner than I thought, bringing the worst of weather conditions. A wind that just would not quit and a cold spell with a spiteful temper. I was not prepared at all.

"Colder than usual, huh?" Shannon makes for small talk.

Although I have been in a fairly good mood since my eventful weekend, I still have certain questions and concerns that plague me, causing all that hard working happiness to fall in trivial memories. I guess it truly shows.

"Sure." I cut the conversation short.

To add insult to my already stressful life, Mr. Matthews has been down my throat about new projects and new articles, complaining about our newest addition to the team or pestering me about the oldest. I comprehended the fact that this new promotion would be more extensive  - in terms of work requirements - perfectly, but I honestly feel that I may have bitten off more than I can chew.

I am still dealing with other matters. Lately, I have been feeling emotionally drained. Often I find myself waking in the middle of the night, crying about a nightmare starring a visit from Jason. His absence is driving me to the brinks of insanity. Timothy tells me that things will be okay, but will they ever be?

He is not confined by any means so that means he is still roaming about, plotting his next move. Without restraints, Jason has power. That terrifies me.

"Miss Heart?" Shannon reels me away from my thoughts.

I glance up at the blonde.

"Are you okay? Do you need tissues?"

A tear stains my paper, followed by another in succession before I finally nod. I didn't know I was crying. That is truly embarrassing.

Shannon walks over to her satchel and retrieves a travel sized package of Kleenex. Silently she returns to my desk and hands them to me.

"Thank you." I whisper, shamefully patting my eyelids clean.

"Anytime. It's okay to cry, Miss Heart." Shannon sighs. "I hope I'm not overstepping my boundaries, but do you want to talk about it?"

I bat my eyes and glance at her.

She returns my gaze with a soft one of her own, pleading with me to open up. Something compels me to let down my guard as I nod.

I try to keep my story short, leaving out minor details that I found too personal to express. The entire time she listens, careful to keep her responses to a minimum. When I finish, she herself is moved to tears.

"How can someone deal with that? You come to work everyday, perfectly fine. Even with all this going through your head. How?" She asks, the question seeming more rhetorical than anything.

I shrug, passing her the packet of Kleenex.

"I have a great support system, but most of all... My work will always be a priority. Even though I have blown up a few times, I try to keep my emotions at bay when I'm at work. It is not supposed to affect me. But this... This is different." I admit, sighing heavily at my circumstances.

She shakes her head in bewilderment, glancing at her torn tissue before returning her gaze on me.

"But what are you going to do? Why haven't you told the police?"