Saying it was a rough patch would be the understatement of the century.
Trisha found me two days later in bed, where I'd crawled in after Brandon left, and where I still was when she came back home, doing nothing but crying. I would only get up to go to the bathroom, and on one of those quick trips, I spotted the corner of the fat quilt escaping the closet door. The quilt that had covered Brandon and me the first time we'd slept together, just before setting Kujo free. So I spread it open on the bed and curled up under it to keep crying.
Lizzie showed up to check on me a couple of times, until I turned my phone off.
Susan didn't come anywhere near my room, no matter if it was the day to vacuum the master bedroom or change sheets or whatever.
