Behind The Pitch, A Novella: Seeking Serenity 1.5 - Plot & Excerpts
I have sent flowers—white roses, because they are her favorite. I have sent chocolate—dark, because she finds it sweeter. I have called. Left messages, texted her…that one annoyed me most. “Please let me see you,” I sent her only to get a “you hit an old man. Assface” text in reply. What the buggering shite is an assface anyway? Yesterday I waited outside of her building for her to leave work. She’d had me barded by the skinny, pimpled-face kid with the ugly green campus police uniform and flashlight on his hip who sat in front of the lobby doors glaring at me for a half hour straight. When she finally left, I chased after her like the sad, pathetic amadan I am. “Autumn, wait, please. Can I at least talk to you for one bleeding second?” When she turned toward me, eyes going soft for just the smallest second, I thought I’d get a hug, a kiss, something that told me I hadn’t lost her completely. But then our gazes met, held, and then her anger flared swift. “Go talk to Joe.
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