Page 52 of Psychotic Obsession

I’m going to kill her.

My eyes momentarily leave his, and I look at my lap, chewing on my bottom lip. "I ended things with him." The look on his face makes me fight back a smile, something like relief washing over him, but he quickly glances away.

"I'll just come fix it and leave," he tells me, stepping back from the car. "I'll see you when I finish work."

"Thank you.”

"Good luck with your presentation. You'll smash it, as always," he continues, and my eyes meet his again for a split second.

I put my car in reverse and drive away, not daring to give Ewan one last look.

Jason is in the back, headphones on, listening to whatever music he downloaded onto his dad's old phone. He smiles at me in the mirror, and I return it, driving him to the school entrance, saying goodbye, and making my way to my presentation.

Chapter 23

Aria

Peeking through the curtains lined along the side of the huge stage, I pale, seeing every chair filled, crowds of professionals waiting with notepads and pens, ready to take notes on everything I have to say.

"Okay, five minutes, and you're on, Aria," the stage director announces, fixing a microphone onto the front of my white shirt, tucking the small box into the back of my black pencil skirt. "If you need to take a break for water or a breather, just do it."

"Right," I reply, taking deep breaths. It's not like I'm not used to these, but this is the largest one I've done. I'm a confident woman, but right now, I feel like I'm going to pass out and bring up my breakfast on top of this dude's pair of shiny shoes.

Swirling water around my mouth, I make sure my throat is lubricated and ready to speak for an entire hour. I try to remember certain notes and accept that I'm going to screw it up, but I’m unable to think straight, my palms sweaty, heart beating heavily in my ears.

The lights start to dim, and the presenter walks onto the stage, thanking everyone for travelling here, giving an introduction about me–how I earned my qualifications, travelled to numerous hospitals around the world, inpartnerships, and many facts that make me even more nervous not to screw this up.

Straightening, I concentrate on not tripping over my heels as I walkonto the stage, the applause from the crowd easing me somewhat as I give them a wave, shaking hands with the presenter before standing beside a large projector.

"Thank you everyone for coming today. As you already know, my name is Aria Miller, and I’m a clinical scientist working closely with multiple organizations to help research rare diseases.”

I watch them all, keeping eye contact as my heart starts to race. I turn to the screen, using the clicker to change the slide.

"Today, I'm here to talk to you all about a rare disorder called Ribose-five-phosphate isomerase deficiency, or RPI deficiency for short." Clicking the next screen, I continue to explain the disorder, how only four people in a twenty-seven-year period have been diagnosed, how it affects the body, and how it's diagnosed.

I show them my recent finding; it's currently the rarest genetic disease in the world.

"This autosomal recessive disorder has no treatment, nor does it have a prognosis because it's so rare."

I scan the crowd as they all jot down notes, some nodding, some chewing their pens, some on their phones paying no attention. Those are the ones I want to launch the clicker at and glare at them for wasting my time when someone else could be here in their place, actually learning something.

It goes on for another twenty minutes, my throat going dry.

"Does anyone have any questions at the moment?" I ask, several hands raising. I accept a few questions confidently and move on.

Before I can turn to continue, one more hand raises, and I need to focus my eyes to see all the way to the back.

The blood drains from my face as the clicker hits the floor.

No, I mouth, my lips parting more each passing second before I shake off my shock.

"Yes?" I ask the person to speak up, gulping down a large, painful lump as Tobias stands from his seat and straightens out his tie, dressed in a fitted, dark grey suit and white shirt.

I want to run off this stage and tell him to leave, but I also battle against my hormones, the mere sight of him igniting something deep within me, like I’m some sex crazed idiot.

"Am I correct in saying only children have been diagnosed with this disorder, Doctor?"

With my nails digging into my palm, I nod, struggling with my words. "That's...that's right. Only children and teenagers have been diagnosed with this...so far."