Chapter 62

I spend the meeting the next day wearing Jake’s sunglasses and nursing a hangover. My eyes are puffy and sore, and my head’s banging.

He put me to bed last night and left me alone until our first meeting this morning; he didn’t even push me to eat breakfast or jog with him for a change. I know he’s walking on eggshells, waiting to see how I am. He’s giving me space, or maybe he’s just looking at me and thinking I’m probably mentally broken and could fall apart any day now, so he should handle it with care.

I’m in ‘cold and grumpy’ mode, excelling at it, covering my inner turmoil and regrets. So far, I’ve snapped at every person I’ve met in triplicate. In the past, Jake has met my PMS face, which I have with a vengeance, but I may even surpass myself now. He has said nothing about my mood, no funny comments or sarcastic telling off’s; he frowns at me. He’s tugged my hand out of my hair repeatedly; I wore it down because I couldn’t bear to stand there doing it up this morn