Chapter 17

• Chapter Seventeen
• Tasha paced her room debating her decision. She’d finally decided that the day to confront Tom about the past had arrived. She just wished she had the courage to do so during the day and not—she looked at her bedside clock—at ten in the night. She’d been pacing for almost an hour since her decision and her stomach was still in knots. There was nothing calming about pacing.
• “Oh God!” she moaned chewing on her nails. She wouldn’t have been so nervous if not for his outburst that afternoon when he called her a whore. And dinner, she was ready to use a butcher knife to carve the tension up to pieces because it had been suffocating!