I mean, yes, obviously, I’ve got a lot of things to work through, very serious things.
Dr. Temple and I are going to keep talking about all of it—Marianne’s death, how Mummy died too
and why I pretended for all those years that she was still there, still talking to me...
it’s going to take time and it’s not going to be easy,” I said. I felt very calm.
“Essentially, though, in all the ways that matter... I’m fine now. Fine,” I repeated, stressing the word because, at last, it was true.
A woman jogged past, running after a Chihuahua, shouting its name in an increasingly anxious tone.
“Marianne loved dogs,” I said. “Every time we saw one, she’d point and laugh, then try to hug it.”
Raymond cleared his throat. More coffees came, and we drank slowly. “Will you be OK?” Raymond said.
He looked angry with himself. “Sorry. Stupid question. I just wish I’d known sooner,” he said.
“I wish I could have helped more.” He glared at the wall, looking as though he was trying not to cry.
“No one should have to go through what you’ve been through,” he said finally, furious.
You lost your little sister, even though you tried your best to save her, and you were only a child yourself.
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