I had Bill's bag slung over my shoulder and was pacing the hospital corridor while he was checking out at reception, signing some forms and who knows what the hell. I did not pay attention.

I thought about Tate and why we couldn't get things back together. I wanted. I wanted to do it every fucking day. I was even so bent over on Tuesday that I texted her. But I didn't decide to read the burning topic, which definitely didn't disappear anywhere.

And why?

I was probably afraid that instead of reconciliation it would just lead to another argument and everything would get worse.

Christmas was around the corner...