Page 8 of A Day of Ruin

I called in sick the next morning. The thought of being anywhere near the office made my insides freeze.

The panic attack fog from my PTSD had cleared but exhaustion still hung in my bones. Part of me wondered if I should contact Thomas for an emergency session but honestly I just felt tired. The constant drag of hatred and taunts were wearing me down and no matter how much I shot the shit with Thomas, it wasn’t enough.

I had considered leaving the city so many times – a fresh start somewhere, maybe in the country. I could definitely rock a pair of overalls and hell, might even meet a cowboy to wed me. But money was tight. Which is why when Lauren King called me for another meeting I ended up with a fresh wave of tears. Through my glossy eyes I agreed to go to her office, the alternative worse.

But how much more worse could it get, right?