Everything hurt.
The hours were like wild horses. Dawn broke around me. I spent most of the day on the sofa, crying myself out of tears, watching the sky turn tauntingly through shades of silver and gold.
I tried to be brave. To be strong. To be less f*****g pathetically embarrassing.
But my inner Scarlett O’Hara was AWOL—tomorrow being another day seemed scant f*****g consolation.
And while I sometimes tormented myself with idle fantasies of Matthew coming back, of sweeping me into his arms, full of sorrow and declarations of eternal devotion…I knew it wasn’t going to happen.
I wasn’t sure I could ever bear pain like this again.
* * *
Later…later…later…
My phone bleeped.
And, like a fool, I scrabbled for it. Wrecked with hope with fear with hope.
But it was Nik: I MOVED MY FOO
