work. Chloe would do anything if she thinks I’m dying.
I shut off my phone, ran to the bathroom, and threw up in the sink.
My mother found me sitting on the cold floor. Without asking questions, she gently held my hair back the way she had when I was a child.
“Three entire years of my life,” I sobbed quietly against her shoulder.
“I know, sweetheart,” she whispered soothingly.
“How could I have been so blind?” I cried out.
“Because you were looking for reasons to believe he loved
