Chapter Thirty Three
I've always been one to put my foot in things. And I just had to accept that I'd offended him. Stepped beyond the boundaries where I wasn't wanted. And hey, it wouldn't be the first time. Tarquin told me that because it had been Rhett's fight all along, maybe he didn't appreciate someone else handing him the victory. That was his theory. Donna wondered whether my intervention had made him feel less of a man. But I didn't know. And this overwhelming exhaustion held me in its grip. It didn't matter how or why Rhett had dropped me like a hot potato, I just felt like I'd been hit in the chest so hard that I couldn't breathe. It had been five days since the phone call, twelve pots of caramel chew ice cream, seven bottles of wine, and enough boxes of Kleenex to fill Wembley
