Waiting On The Other Shoe To Drop Novels & Stories

It's go time. The ground outside is pure rock and gravel, it would be horrifically painful to walk on barefoot. Looking down, I realized that I never took off my shoes from yesterday when I was waiting for the mailman. I was pacing while waiting for him so I knew if I dragged my feet at all it would be noisy and noticeable. I stood up from the rock and began gingerly walking to the small stable we had.

"I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. For another crisis, another threat, another reason everything falls apart." "That's trauma response. Expecting disaster because disaster has been your normal." "When did you become so wise?" "Single motherhood. Forces perspective." That night, the other shoe dropped. I was at my apartment, studying for a final exam, when someone knocked. Not the doorbell—actual knocking. Hard, urgent knocking. I checked the peephole. A woman I didn't recognize—mid-thirties, professional appearance, clearly distressed. "I'm not opening the door," I called through it. "State your business."

But I knew I couldn’t do that, I still had my name to clear and find out the truth behind what Freya and Vivian were plotting. A few hours passed after Moira’s threat and I had only gotten a quarter of the shoes finished. I didn’t even want to look at the jewellery that was mocking me with its shiny golds and dazzling diamonds. I was so focused on making sure a certain golden high heel was polished so I could see my face in it that I hardly noticed the brunette boy coming up behind me until I saw his reflection too. Startled, I dropped the shoe and turned around, my face only inches away from Alexander’s.

"What connections?" "That's when I made a noise. Accidentally. A shoe scraping on the floor. They stopped talking. Security came and escorted me to the waiting room. I never heard the rest." Valerie opened her eyes. "But that phrase stuck with me. 'Someone Bethany will never suspect.' Shaw said it right before I made that noise. Said 'Don't worry. Even if she wins, the partner is someone she'll never suspect. Someone close enough to watch. Patient enough to wait.'"

I convinced myself but that earn a laid up from me. People will always come after me saying that there are no fairy tales, that I should stop obsessing about the life of Cinderella who waited for her right person to come. I wanted to meet someone who has my shoe—someone who will find wherever I am in this world. Sadly, I met the wrong Prince and I mistook someone else’s shoe as mine. I tilted my head. “And why am I the one who is looking for a shoe? Isn’t the other way around?” I murmured to myself before I annoyingly laid back on the ground.

All while praying hard he would forget it in the next sixty seconds. I take my own sweet time taking off my sneakers, opening the cabinet door, putting the sneakers in one of the shelves, carefully selecting one of the white slippers, drop the pair on the floor, and only then slip my feet into them. He quietly waits for me, not even muttering a single word as he patiently stands behind me. I really hope he has forgotten about the stupid reply.

"You probably want to use the money to make Bruno cut ties with me! But I'm telling you right now—dream on!" At her words, I paused for a moment. Why would anyone still like such a despicable man? No wonder people online say jerks and gold-diggers were made for each other. Well, I had no desire to waste any more time with someone like her. Thankfully, the race was over. I saw Liam running toward me, excited to share the joy of winning third place. From the corner of my eye, I saw Raine get up and lunge at me despite her pregnant belly.

I’m just taking and not giving! Then I heard thump, thump. I looked over to see his shoes rolling across the floor. Then I heard zzzziiiiip and the sound of cloth falling softly to the floor. That was when I put two and two together and realized my wishes were about to come true.

My phone shut down without waiting for Blake's full message. There goes my sign!

"Now can you please tell me why the fuck you still have a problem with shoes?" I can't help but smirk, "I'm waiting for my glass slippers," I muse, lifting my feet to poke his leg just when a low growl echoes of the walls and both our heads snap to Jaxson and Sophia, only now realising we had an audience. Sophia seemed amused, Jaxson not so much.