Chapter 63 Sixty-two

• The hand weaving through my scalp applies more pressure when I make to lift my head in her direction, tugging gently on my hair. A sigh slips past my lips, there is no point trying, Clarissa won’t give back my phone. I shouldn’t demand it since all I have gotten is a truckload of news with captions that send my already broken heart into overdrive.
• But I still want to see it. To read the gossip tabs about the women he dines with. It is the only way to keep track of him, to know he is fine, if we still have a future together.
• Curling into a foetal position with my head resting on Clarissa’s laps, I sniff and pull the duvet to my chin. Tears line my eyes, I blink to stop them from falling but they roll down my cheeks and onto her skin. She doesn’t protest neither does she complain, she rubs circles on my back like she has been doing for the past fifteen days until I quiet down.