But after spotting his reflection two different times? Oh, hell, yeah, I thought about it. She’d been the only one who refused to let me hide and wallow in my grief. It stood to reason she could hear my story, call it bullshit or exhaustion or something completely mundane, and then send me packing back to my normal life without feeling like I was losing my fucking mind.
I got as far as looking up to see if she was still at Bronx Lebanon before I talked myself out of it. Why should I shell over any of my hard-earned money to a shrink just so she could tell me what I already knew?
Dixon was dead. I didn’t sleep enough. I’d carry the guilt about not being able to save him the rest of my life. Blah blah blah.
I went into work early to get my mind off it, but as soon as I hit the subway after midnight, I found myself back on the 4, ready and waiting for either Judah or Dixon to put in another appearance. When Judah was the first to show, I was actually relieved.