I wake to weak sunlight filtering through the blinds. I am on my side in the foetal position, my body curled around Taylor’s head, our fingers still interlaced. He is snoring softly, and I reach up with my free hand to run my fingers through his hair. The whirl of my thoughts brings me back to Hannah, and I realise what I did was just what Taylor always thought happened to her. Guilt washes over me and tears prick my eyes. “I am so sorry for putting you through this, Taylor,” I whisper softly.
Taylor stirs and shifts his body before raising his head to look at me. “Hey,” he says softly.
“Hey,” I reply. “You must be really uncomfortable on that chair.” I study Taylor’s face, taking in the dark shadows under his eyes, the pallor in his skin and the fact that he is wearing yesterday’s cloth
