49: A fleeting type of happiness

“Ms Tarr?” I hear a faint unfamiliar voice and slowly, my lashes pull apart to find the doctor at the entrance of the waiting room. I slowly sit up on the long chair I laid on, only to have a black three-piece suit fall onto my lap.

This belongs to Dane and the last time I saw him, he had it on. My eyes scan the waiting room, but there’s no trace of Dane left but for his jacket around me for warmth. How nice it is of him to even think about my comfort while I sleep. 

His jacket feels so cosy and rich with the smell of him and I’m considering the thought of keeping it. 

I don’t remember falling asleep, and I don’t know what other embarrassing stunt I pulled last night. I silently thank the moon goddess that Dane isn’t around to see me in all my morning disasters.

“That’s me, I’m Ms Tarr.” I pull myself onto my feet and approach the doctor who leads me out of the waiting doom and into his office. 

After ten minutes in his office,