The Other Woman in His Shadows - Chapter 10: Chapter 10
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I nodded in agreement with Yves.
The moment I walked through my front door, I grabbed the notebook—the one filled with every tiny memory of Jason and me—and set it on fire. Flames licked at the pages, turning our history to ash. Just like that, every trace of us was gone.
Seven years, sealed away forever in the back of my mind.
I wasn't taking any chances. If Jason came looking for me again, I needed to disappear. So I told my mom I wanted to move back home. She lit up like Christmas morning and even recruited Yves to help me pack.
Within days, I was settled in. And not long after, I found myself sitting across from my blind date—Evan Brooks, my senior from university.
I remembered him—quietly kind, always patient, the type who never pushed. Back then, I'd been too buried in my studies to notice much else. But here he was, years later, still the same gentle soul.
I didn't sugarcoat it. "I can't jump into anything right now," I admitted.
He just smiled. "Then I'll wait. Until you're ready to let me in."
Turns out, he'd noticed me all those years ago. Funny how life circles back.
We became close after that—friends who could talk about anything. But neither of us crossed that unspoken line.
Jason, though? He didn't get the memo. He kept showing up outside my office like some kind of ghost. Yves finally snapped and threw a punch.
Later, over dinner, Yves was still fuming. "That guy's delusional. First, he's obsessed with Shairine, now he's crying about seven years with you? Absolute lunatic."
I shrugged. "Good thing none of it was real. I'd lose my mind watching my boyfriend flirt with someone else."
I meant it. Those seven years? Erased.
Then my company offered me a chance to study abroad. I didn't hesitate.
This time, I only told Evan and my family.
But when I landed in Paris, there he was—Evan, waiting at the airport.
I blinked. "What are you doing here?"
"Business trip," he said casually. "Figured I'd meet you."
I hadn't even given him my flight details.
A stranger nearby chuckled. "This one's been here since morning, checking every arrival."
Evan's ears turned pink.
Something warm settled in my chest. "Thank you," I said softly.
For making a foreign city feel like home.
He stayed with me after that, guiding me through Paris with endless patience. He drew me maps, marked emergency contacts, even traveled back and forth just to bring me a taste of home.
Six months later, when he asked me for the third time, I said yes.
That same day, Yves texted:
[Smart move leaving. Jason's lost it—found some girl who looks just like you. Dude's unhinged.]
I didn't reply.
We're all responsible for our own choices.
As for me? I'm not looking back.
The moment I walked through my front door, I grabbed the notebook—the one filled with every tiny memory of Jason and me—and set it on fire. Flames licked at the pages, turning our history to ash. Just like that, every trace of us was gone.
Seven years, sealed away forever in the back of my mind.
I wasn't taking any chances. If Jason came looking for me again, I needed to disappear. So I told my mom I wanted to move back home. She lit up like Christmas morning and even recruited Yves to help me pack.
Within days, I was settled in. And not long after, I found myself sitting across from my blind date—Evan Brooks, my senior from university.
I remembered him—quietly kind, always patient, the type who never pushed. Back then, I'd been too buried in my studies to notice much else. But here he was, years later, still the same gentle soul.
I didn't sugarcoat it. "I can't jump into anything right now," I admitted.
He just smiled. "Then I'll wait. Until you're ready to let me in."
Turns out, he'd noticed me all those years ago. Funny how life circles back.
We became close after that—friends who could talk about anything. But neither of us crossed that unspoken line.
Jason, though? He didn't get the memo. He kept showing up outside my office like some kind of ghost. Yves finally snapped and threw a punch.
Later, over dinner, Yves was still fuming. "That guy's delusional. First, he's obsessed with Shairine, now he's crying about seven years with you? Absolute lunatic."
I shrugged. "Good thing none of it was real. I'd lose my mind watching my boyfriend flirt with someone else."
I meant it. Those seven years? Erased.
Then my company offered me a chance to study abroad. I didn't hesitate.
This time, I only told Evan and my family.
But when I landed in Paris, there he was—Evan, waiting at the airport.
I blinked. "What are you doing here?"
"Business trip," he said casually. "Figured I'd meet you."
I hadn't even given him my flight details.
A stranger nearby chuckled. "This one's been here since morning, checking every arrival."
Evan's ears turned pink.
Something warm settled in my chest. "Thank you," I said softly.
For making a foreign city feel like home.
He stayed with me after that, guiding me through Paris with endless patience. He drew me maps, marked emergency contacts, even traveled back and forth just to bring me a taste of home.
Six months later, when he asked me for the third time, I said yes.
That same day, Yves texted:
[Smart move leaving. Jason's lost it—found some girl who looks just like you. Dude's unhinged.]
I didn't reply.
We're all responsible for our own choices.
As for me? I'm not looking back.
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