Josie
I didn't want to cry again.
I'd already lost count of the times I had. But the ache inside me wasn't going away, no matter how many tears I wiped away, no matter how tightly I clutched my arms to my chest like they could somehow hold me together.
Marcy sat beside me on the edge of the bed, her fingers lightly rubbing slow, comforting circles into my back. The gentle pressure should have soothed me. Instead, it only reminded me of everything that wasn't right.
"You've been through a lot, Josie," she said softly, her voice a cushion of concern. "The way they're treating you now—it's not about you. It's their egos."
I turned my face toward her, blinking through the thin veil of tears. My voice came out raw. "That's not true," I whispered. "It has to be me. What else could it be?"
