A Secret Grave 53: Fight-or-Flight

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Once Victor knew Caroline played the cello, he did some research, found out who she performed with and bingo! He decided to confront her at her next concert, which was the one I attended at my friends Richard and Gary’s house in West Lake Hills. Peter advised him to perhaps choose a more private setting, but Victor would not be deterred and promised to be discreet. He arrived at intermission, thinking he’d slip quietly into a seat where he would remain unnoticed till the music was over. Then he’d approach Caroline. But of course she noticed him almost right away and fled after her first bow. Victor was right on her heels.

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amparo-with-cello

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When they were in the street, he yelled her name but already she was running and wouldn’t turn and acknowledge him. He chased after her, almost tripping as he caught up and grabbed her arm. “Let go of me!” she screamed. He released her arm and they stood there staring at one another. She was as beautiful as he remembered, the mother of his son, the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. “I have to see him,” he said.

She shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do.”

Tears were trickling down Caroline’s cheeks and her hair was wild. By now people were leaving the concert, heading for their cars. “Caroline, we have to go someplace private and talk. Come on.” He took her arm once again and started to force march her toward his car. She resisted, digging her heels in.

“I don’t want to go to your car,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Well, we can go sit in yours. I don’t care, but we have to talk.”

To this she agreed and led him to her car, a dark gray Honda CRV. They got in and immediately she switched on the engine to start the A/C. It was hot! “I think we should drive somewhere and talk,” she said.

“Okay, but look at me first. Caroline, look at me!”

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caroline-upset

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Slowly she raised her gaze and their eyes locked. It was just for a second but in that instant he saw fear, guilt, apprehension and a wild hidden longing that he assumed was for him. He touched her hand, very deliberately, knowing the power his fingers on her skin could send surging through her body. “I’ve spent six years trying to find you,” he said. “Why’d you lie about your name?”

“I’m married,” she said. “I’m sorry but I’m not free.”

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To be continued…

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Cover photo ~ escape, Andrea Madaro, https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

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