Chapter 8
Well, I made a choice. I was pretty sure I had. I was awake. At least part of me was. There was no grogginess, which led me to assume I wasn’t the kind of awake that was normal in the afternoon when I got up from sleep after work. There was no pain, which I doubted would be normal after hours of surgery. I saw no Rainbow Bridge and I sensed no Patrick, though. “So, where the hell am I?” I whispered. “Yikes! Not there, I hope.”
The feeling of being responsible for what Tom did to Patrick, a feeling gone at Jefferson’s wedding, had returned full-force. This led me to wonder if I was in hell, and also if that was the fate I deserved. Patrick loved me still in Jefferson’s Heaven and in the one we’d shared in the meadow and on the boat. On Earth, how could he or anyone who adored hi
