Worry A Novel Novels & Stories

I know Jawad won't eat but I still prepared plenty just in case. I slumped down on the couch eating my pancake topped with strawberry syrup, my eyes dart toward the stairs hoping Jawad will come down but no sign of him. I cleared my plate putting the remaining pancakes inside the refrigerator for later. I went upstairs and took the new novel I'm reading, which of course belongs to me not from jawad library. Reading makes me forget all my worries, I'm halfway through the book when the door burst open. I knew exactly who it was. My eyes met with a cold ones

Dana said thoughtfully. I smiled, nodded and clutched my phone tightly. I stood by the door until I couldn’t see them down the block and finally dragged myself to my office. I tried to keep typing but I couldn’t focus. Weird and horrible scenarios kept running through my mind. Things that I knew would almost never happen but I still couldn’t help worrying about. I typed up a few words but I couldn’t form a full sentence. I stood up and drank the rest of my tea. I couldn’t help but keep pacing. I tried to sit down several times but I couldn’t keep my attention on the novel. I kept slipping back into thoughts of Camilla, and it came out in the writing.

As I walked back to the house, I was plagued with series of worry as Mrs Rosa and Bruce's conversation at the hospital replayed in my head, I began to ponder on what I heard about Paris and the scenes I had remembered, I found myself being driven into a particular direction, the thought that they were probably not in good terms, But then, I began to question why Mrs Rosa had said what she said at the hospital when she thought I was asleep, that alone was proof enough to convince me, that she was saying the truth, Finally, I decided against telling Mrs Rosa about my short recovery, I decided to recover as much as I could before telling anyone about it, As I turned to leave, I saw a car pullin

I gasped, pulling in all the air as I could, my vision completely black. Then I felt it. Worry. I was worried about something. I was so worried I couldn't even think straight. My vision started slowly coming back and the labored breathing started to level out. I felt a barrier between the worry, as if it wasn't real. Then I realized it wasn't mine. It was Nathan's.

The feeling was unfamiliar enough to annoy me. “You should get some sleep.” “No.” “You haven’t slept properly in days.” “I’ll survive.” Dante studied me for a moment before speaking. “This isn’t really about the investigation anymore, is it?” My eyes lifted and Dante immediately raised both hands. “Forget I asked.” A smart decision. Several moments passed before Dante finally left. Alone again, I looked toward the window. My reflection stared back. Tired, frustrated and worn out. I hated all three. I was worried and I hated being worried the most because worry required attachment and attachment required vulnerability.

“You worry too much princess” “That because you’re not worried at all, all of this means others will be able to track me here, and with the backlisting, it's well, bad. Sky thinks the Accolites want to start a war” Another sigh, “I will take care of it when the time comes” I wring my hands, unable to hide my concern, “But it could get dangerous” A smirk appears on his face “Fun, right? Now it's my turn to fall back against the couch, but I do so in frustration. A groan escaped my lips. The beginnings of a headache blooming at the base of my skull.

Other than that, they mind their business…mostly. I push open the store and I'm immediately welcomed by the scent of strawberries and peaches. It is a welcome change from the smell of smoke that lingered even after I had the whole place wiped down. I set out setting things in order, trying to maintain a happy mood, and keep my problems from slipping in. I think about everything else, from Anna, to Vanessa, to the slow but steady growth of the business. Nothing works, unfortunately. Within seconds, all my worries come creeping back. I drop the wash rag and go over to the counter. I lean in and pick up a book marked "DEBTS" in front.

Tony realizes he has to leave the matter in the local police's hands, with the hope that they will find me still alive. His conscience wouldn’t let him leave Brazil without knowing I was okay. So he crossed his wrist behind his head and tried to relax as he looked at his hotel door again from across the room to ensure it was locked. Then he grumbled, yanking off his shirt and tossing it on a chair. Still frustrated with worry, he flopped back on his bed and reached for the remote to turn on the television, flipping through the channels. But there was nothing on the television to distract him from thinking about me. The entire night, he'd found himself wondering if I was okay or if he could h

I fell down on the ground again and my breathing got rough. Something felt like it was pushing on my chest all the time. The load never eased. This home didn't feel safe anymore. Worry went with me in each room. Each set of feet made me nervous. Each car halting outside made my heart leap! Each alert on my phone made my hands tremble. Worry took over each second. I was stuck in a jail I made myself. There was no way out of it. The bad part was my quiet. I couldn’t say to anyone what had gone on.

The abrupt end to our call had left me uneasy, my mind spiraling with all the possibilities of what could have gone wrong. I tried to push the worry away, reminding myself that Noah was strong, that he could handle whatever came his way, but the anxiety lingered, gnawing at the edges of my mind. The darkness of the room seemed to close in around me, the silence amplifying the sound of my own heartbeat.