Chapter Twenty-Two
She was such a fool. Her head in her hands, tears smearing her makeup, hair curling at the ends and falling out of its pins, an enormous run up the side of Hannah’s control top pantyhose, she knew that she never should have come. She bent down and unhooked the straps of her heels, easing her cramped toes out with an audible groan. God, her feet hurt so much.
But that was okay, because she was never walking again. She was going to stay in that bathroom stall for the rest of her life, too drunk and ashamed to show her face again. How could Ben have come here? How could he do this to her?
The tiled floor swam in her watery vision, blurred from her tears and the wine and the thudding between her temples. All she wanted was to crawl down onto the cool, hard floor and die.
