Chapter 22: Influence

My hangover almost gone by the time we returned to work on Thursday, but my anger was still smoldering. The days off were a blur of drunkenness and sex, but when I began to come around, I realized nothing had been solved. Except that I was maybe a little closer to getting over Tasmyn. A little closer to the acceptance everyone seemed to think was so essential to healing.

Joss, to my eternal gratitude, didn’t push me to talk about anything. She cooked for me, she found hilarious movies for us to watch on television, and she shared my bed.

“Do you think I’m a fool, Joss?” I asked her the question on Thursday morning as we ate breakfast before work. “Am I an idiot because I think I fell in love with a girl who never really wanted me?”

Joss set down her coffee cup and regarded me without speaking for a minute. When she answered, it was with measured words.