When She Walks Away (Teresa) novel Chapter 175

Chapter 175

He glanced back–Teresa was still in the thick of the crowd, leaning forward, completely absorbed by the acrobats flipping through the

air.

Troy slipped over to the palm reader, haggling quick and low before pressing seven hundred bucks into his hand.

By the time he made his way back, the acrobats had taken their bows, the crowd starting to disperse. Teresa turned, scanning the faces, her brow creasing when she didn’t spot him.

Then a tap on her shoulder. “Hey, Teresa–looking for someone?”

She spun, and there he was, holding out a necklace in his

open palm.

He tilted his head, that warm, bright smile of his crinkling the corners of his eyes as he met her gaze.

Teresa felt her heart flutter at his

arm smile, but she quickly turned her face away. “It’s late already. Let’s head back.”

Seeing her about to leave, Troy quickly grabbed her wrist and said, “Let’s walk around a bit more.”

Teresa glanced down at his hand on her wrist. She said, “Let go

Troy insisted, “Only if you keep me company a little longer.”

Teresa had to agree. “Okay.”

of

me first.”

With that, Troy released her hand, but in the same motion, he pressed the necklace into her palm. “I saw it at a stall earlier. It’s nothing special. Wear it if you want,” he said, his tone deliberately casual.

Teresa studied the piece. While she rarely indulged in finery herself, she had an eye for quality. The necklace was delicate, well–made- far from a cheap trinket.

A pang of unworthiness made her fingers close around it before she offered it back. “Troy, I can buy my own jewelry. You don’t have to get me anything… but I understand the gesture. I appreciate it.

Seeing her refusal, Troy’s face shuttered.

He took the necklace back, his jaw tightening as his expression darkened. “If you don’t want it,” he stated, his voice low, “then there’s no point in keeping it.”

Before she could react, he drew his arm back and flung it into the bustling market crowd.

“Troy, don’t!” Teresa cried, shooting him an exasperated look.

He merely shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “You said you didn’t want it.”

“Even if I said no, you still paid for it!” she snapped, her frustration mounting. “How could you just throw it away like that?”

A slow, triumphant smile broke across his face as he saw her genuine distress. “So,” he teased, his voice dropping. “Do you want it or not?”

Teresa opened her mouth to protest, but Troy raised his hand. The necklace dangled from his fingers, glinting in the light. He had never thrown it at all.

“I’m asking you one last time,” he said, locking eyes with her, all traces of humor gone. “Do you want it?”

The ultimatum

as clear–a final ‘no‘ would mean watching it disappear for real.

Helpless against his tactics, Teresa finally relented with a defeated mutter. “Just… give it to me. I’ll hold onto it.”

Avictor’s grin flashed across his face as he slipped the necklace into her hand.

After she secured it in her pocket, the two fell into step once more, continuing their stroll through the market.

There weren’t as many people around as there had been earlier.

1/3

Jyn

10:37 AM P P

Chapter 175

They strolled down the street when an old man at a rickety table–tarot cards fanned out on a frayed velvet cloth, a weathered sign propped beside him reading “Cards & Insights“-called out to Teresa. “Miss, got a minute?”

Teresa turned, and there he was–a wiry man with a salt–and–pepper beard, wearing a threadbare tweed jacket over a flannel shirt.

At first glance, he exuded the calm, commanding confidence of a master in his craft.

“Me?” she asked, pointing to herself, a faint furrow between her brows.

He stroked his beard, a grin crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Pull up a chair. Let’s see what the cards say.”

Teresa smiled, shaking her head. “No, really, I’m fine-

“Relax,” he cut in, leaning back in his chair, as casual as he could be. “I am not here to fleece you. If I’m full of it, you walk. No harm, no foul.”

She started to protest again, but Troy nudged her arm, his voice low and amused. “Come on. Let’s see what tall tale he spins.”

The old man chimed in, “Exactly. Think of it as shooting the breeze with a stranger. It could be fun.”

Between the two of them, Teresa finally sighed, half–smiling, and sat down on the stool across from him.

The old man slid the deck of tarot cards toward her. “Shuffle these, why don’t you? Think of whatever’s on your mind.” She did, then handed them back.

He dealt them out, his fingers pausing over the cards as he studied them, then looked up at her. “Medical field, huh?” he said, like he was stating a fact, not guessing. “You haven’t hit your stride yet, but you will. Got that quiet fire–takes time, but you’ll make your mark.”

Teresa blinked. He hadn’t asked for her birth date, hadn’t fussed with charts–just read the cards and spoke. He tapped another card, continuing, “This marriage, though… it’s weighing on you. Like a stone in your pocket. You keep carrying it, it’ll drag you down. Better to set it down, clean.” Her throat felt tight.

He kept going, his voice softer now. “Cards say you’ll have kids–three, if the fates hold. The first one is a girl. The other two… not with who you’re with now.” He paused, glancing at her, then added, “That first one? She’ll take a lot out of you. Better save your energy for her.”

He flipped another card, his brow lifting. “Your family is good, though. Parents, brother–solid. Sister–in–law, too. Keep that peace if you can. Feuding with them: It’ll eat at you, body and soul.”

Teresa sat there, staring at the cards, a quiet buzz of confusion in her head. How the hell did he know all that?

Could he actually be for real?

Troy hung back a few steps, nodding to himself, clearly pleased with how things were going. He glanced over at her, his gaze lingering, waiting to see how she’d take it.

The old man’s words had left her a little shaken, curiosity snaking in–curious about what her love life might look like, down the line.

He must’ve noticed, because he grinned and asked, “Hit the mark, miss?”

Instead of answering, she leaned forward. “You mean I’ll have two more kids after the first?”

He nodded and replied, “That’s what the cards say.”

Teresa turned to Troy, glanced up at him, and said, “Can you step aside for a bit?”

Troy frowned, feigning offense. “Something I am not supposed to hear?”

Hearing that, Troy relented. “Alright, alright. I’ll wander

Once Troy was a few paces off, Teresa turned back and asked, “Can you see who I’ll end up with?”

The old man closed his eyes, muttering something under his breath that sounded like nonsense, then stroked his beard and fixed her with a knowing look. “I can’t spill all the details, but he’s been around. You’ve already promised him forever, in a way. And right now? He’s right here with you.”

Teresa froze. She turned, her eyes finding Troy’s back as he wandered toward a food cart–only his back, nothing

But the old man had said the right man is right here. Who else could it be?

If the old man was telling the truth–if Troy was supposed to be her future husband… seriously? How?

There was barely any bond between them–they weren’t even close enough to call each other friends.

She let out a small, tight smile. “Thanks for the reading, but I don’t buy it,” she said.

As she got up to leave, the old man stroked his beard again and gave her a meaningful grin. “Kid, some people are just destined to be part of your story. You’re connected, so there’s no running away from it. Instead of fighting fate, maybe just go with it. You might find happiness a lot sooner that way.”

Teresa heard him but didn’t respond. “How much do I owe you?” she asked.

As she stood to go, he called after her, “Kid, being stubborn won’t get you anywhere. The one you’re searching for his name is Hamilton. There’s no one else for you but him.”

She kept walking, his words hanging in the air, unacknowledged.

Troy saw her heading off and jogged to catch up.

“What’s up?” he asked, noticing the cool set of her jaw.

Teresa stopped, turning to face him, and stared–really stared–like she was trying to see something she’d missed. She studied his face, his eyes, and came up empty. No real connection, no vague promise she could recall.

‘What bond could we even have?‘ she thought. The old man must’ve been making it up. Just some con artist spinning tales.

Maybe parts were true, but that didn’t mean he knew a damn thing. Guessing a few details, didn’t make him a prophet.

8/3

Chapter 175

The old man closed his eyes, muttering something under his breath that sounded like nonsense, then stroked his beard and fixed her with a knowing look. “I can’t spill all the details, but he’s been around. You’ve already promised him forever, in a way. And right now? He’s right here with you.”

Teresa froze. She turned, her eyes finding Troy’s back as he wandered toward a food cart–only his back, nothing more.

But the old man had said the right man is right here. Who else could it be?

Her gaze lingered on Troy, her expression softening into something complicated.

If the old man was telling the truth–if Troy was supposed to be her future husband… seriously? How?

There was barely any bond between them–they weren’t even close enough to call each other friends.

She let out a small, tight smile. “Thanks for the reading, but I don’t buy it,” she said.

As she got up to leave, the old man stroked his beard again and gave her a meaningful grin. “Kid, some people are just destined to be part of your story. You’re connected, so there’s no running away from it. Instead of fighting fate, maybe just go with it. You might find happiness a lot sooner that way.”

Teresa heard him but didn’t respond. “How much do I owe you?” she asked.

“Didn’t really get it right for you, so it’s

on

the house,” he said, waving a hand.

She didn’t argue–just pulled out her wallet and gave him 30 bucks.

As she stood to go, he called after her, “Kid, being stubborn won’t get you anywhere. The one you’re searching for his name is Hamilton. There’s no one else for you but him.”

She kept walking, his words hanging in the air, unacknowledged.

Troy saw her heading off and jogged to catch up.

“What’s up?” he asked, noticing the cool set of her jaw.

Teresa stopped, turning to face him, and stared–really stared–like she was trying to see something she’d missed. She studied his face, his eyes, and came up empty. No real connection, no vague promise she could recall.

‘What bond could we even have?‘ she thought. The old man must’ve been making it up. Just some con artist spinning tales.

Maybe parts were true, but that didn’t mean he knew a damn thing. Guessing a few details, didn’t make him a prophet.