Chapter Eighty-Seven: The Make Up

It replayed in my head continuously, like the incessant sound of a church bell that chimed every Sunday morning. The surge drove down to my bones the moment she walked in through the glass door. The smiles written all over her face—those were the looks I had missed in her, but now that she was getting them from Thomas again, maybe I was overthinking everything. Maybe she had come over to see a friend in the hospital, one of her many anonymous friends that I had no idea about, perhaps an old lover that had ended up on the hospital bed after she had rejected his offers again. She might have stumbled on Thomas having his physiotherapy session, and since it was someone she knew in the past, she had offered to take him out for lunch. Maybe that was the case; it should be. The thoughts pressed down on my head that I had forgotten to call Anna or one of the drivers to bring my car down, and so I had to just take a cab home. I looked out from the window as the car went by, wondering why I was