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11.
Half an hour later and Sarah stood in front of Montreal Fittings, trying to fight back tears that threatened to pour down her eyes. She put out her hand and hailed a cab.
In the cab, she let out a choked sob followed by a string of expletives. Who the hell was Handel that she had to cry over him so much? He was nothing to her now anyways. He and his fiancée could go and have whatever wedding and fancy honey moon and whatever.
He was her past now and she had to put the past behind her.
The cab driver passed a box of tissue to her, a worried expression on her face.
“You okay, love? You need anything?” she asked Sarah.
“I’m fine, I’m good.” Sarah said as she blew her nose into a tissue.
“You sure? You certainly don’t look it” the cab driver asked again.
“Yeah, I just need to go home and probably sleep. I think I must have caught a cold.” Sarah replied.
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