and the only way she could loosen the ropes and free herself was to pull out of the wedding.
Though, in reality, staying in Bedford and being single, and letting Izzy down about their Australia plans,
and starting work at String Theory, and getting a cat, had all felt like the opposite of freedom.
‘Oh no,’ said Mrs Elm, breaking Nora’s thoughts. ‘It’s too much for you.’
And suddenly she was back feeling all this contrition, all that pain of letting people down and letting herself down,
the pain she had tried to escape less than an hour ago.
The regrets began to swarm together. In fact, while staring at the open pages of the book,
the pain was actually worse than it had been wandering around Bedford.
The power of all the regrets simultaneously emanating from the book was becoming agony.
The weight of guilt and remorse and sorrow too strong.
She leaned back on her elbows, dropped the heavy book and squeezed her eyes shut.
She could hardly breathe, as if invisible hands were around her neck.
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