Thomas seems to struggle to relax. His jaw tenses and I can certainly notice the way that muscle in his jaw hammers as he combs through his thoughts in order to calm down. I suck in a deep breath and try to hold back my tears. Anne insisted on giving me eye liner and mascara and even a soft tint of pink eyeshadow and I couldn’t just smear it with my tears, could I?
“What are you-“ he hisses but bites his tongue before finishing his sentence, swallowing back the words. “WHy are you-“ he tries again but once again stops before he can end his sentence.
I stare at him, eyes filled with worry and confusion. Was he having a stroke or was he really holding back from throwing s**t my way? I cross my arms on my chest again and look down at the engagement ring on my finger. Somehow, it was a matc
