‘All is well that ends well.’ Everything seemed to be steering in the direction of William Shakespeare's saying. After she had disentangled herself from Sam’s embrace earlier, teasing him, knowing fully well that he was beginning to get heated up, she slowly backed away, wearing a smirk on her face. Before she left his office, she whispered something into his ear which caused a wolfish grin to appear on his face. They were the only ones left in the agency but she went ahead first to get some preparations done.Now, she was on her way home, expecting him to join her in the next hour or so. He hadn’t had a taste of her improved cooking and he certainly wouldn’t. At least, not today. So she was going to order in for the night. All through the ride home, she imagined how the night would unfold. It wasn’t a hundred percent happiness though, as she still felt the burden of not letting him know about Simon. But she was going to take this ninety five and hold on to it. Plus, if all does

Nothing else mattered at that moment. Not the way she could feel all the energy draining away from her, not the on lookers who suspected she might have a problem with her sanity, and certainly not the fact that she ran out of the cab immediately it slowed down because of the traffic. She had ran out without paying for the ride. The cab man kept screaming at her to get back there with his money but that didn't matter as well. All that mattered was the picture in her head — an image of Simon Tunes and Sam, alone in Havens Cloud. As well as the thousand and one possibilities of what could go wrong, that creped in her head. The tears were dropping freely from her eyes as she ran. she had discarded her heels at a place she could barely recall. It didn't matter that her feet hurt, she continued to run. She couldn't lose him. Especially when she might have been able to avoid all of this in the first place. She blamed herself for everything that was happening now. And she

You know the feeling of apprehensiveness which washes over you the moment you see that mail from the college of your dream which you had sent out an application to? Or the heebie-jeebies that fills you in when the letter in regards to the job application you sent out weeks ago comes in through the postman? The consternation to go up in front on an entire crowd of what? Twenty thousand, to wield a microphone and deliver a speech that must be nothing short of absolute perfectness? The anxiety, the unease, the angst of that something you know would either make you or mat you?Yeah, that feeling. All of that was nothing close to the hundred and one emotions that were overwhelming Theresa at present. It was simply put, unexplainable. The nervousness that had consumed her was second to none. She could feel it eating through her skin and into her insides, slowly and slowly dissipating it, to the point she began to wonder why the hell she hadn't already collapsed from it. At Hav

It was the buzzing sound of her phone that woke her up that morning. She had slept off on the couch last night. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her palm and reached for the back she had thrown to the sofa yesterday, digging dip into her bag for her phone. She found it and turned the damn thing off, it was her alarm that she had set to remind her to actually wake up on a Saturday morning. It was usually set for ten thirty during the weekends. When she remembered that she would be expecting a call from Margaret, she immediately turned the phone back on. She hadn't gone through it since last night so she seized to opportunity to do so. Who knows? Margaret might have given her a call. As expected there were a lot of her calls from most of her colleagues at work. As well as an equal amount of text messages, asking about what had happened and if she was okay. She glanced through some but didn't reply them as she was in state of mind to come up with a reply other than, 'I'm fine.' And

It was the buzzing sound of her phone that woke her up that morning. She had slept off on the couch last night. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her palm and reached for the back she had thrown to the sofa yesterday, digging dip into her bag for her phone. She found it and turned the damn thing off, it was her alarm that she had set to remind her to actually wake up on a Saturday morning. It was usually set for ten thirty during the weekends. When she remembered that she would be expecting a call from Margaret, she immediately turned the phone back on. She hadn't gone through it since last night so she seized to opportunity to do so. Who knows? Margaret might have given her a call. As expected there were a lot of her calls from most of her colleagues at work. As well as an equal amount of text messages, asking about what had happened and if she was okay. She glanced through some but didn't reply them as she was in state of mind to come up with a reply other than, 'I'm fine.' And