Chapter 23

So there I sat in the coffee shop with my head on the table weeping. Marilyn hated me. I hated me. I thought of that razor blade and wished I hadn't thrown it away. I felt someone slide into the booth across from me, but I was too deep into my self-pity to bother looking up to see who it was.

The person didn't say anything, so I knew it wasn't Marilyn. Marilyn wouldn't have left me shaking with sobs. Ne would have slid in beside me and hugged me, then I could have lifted my tear stained face and...

A hand landed on my shoulder. The touch was so light that I wondered if I'd imagined it. But then it increased in strength to become a squeeze. I have no idea how that touch managed to communicate so much, but it seemed to be giving me strength and offering an apology at the same time.

I had to look up to see who was so sensitive to be able to say so much with such a light touch.