Guilt

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Rule Number Thirty-Eight: Don't let guilt get the best of you.

"You've gained eight pounds. You should be proud" the nurse clapped.

In fact, I was proud. For the first time in my life, I was proud of gaining weight. Two weeks flew past incredibly fast.

My days consisted of therapy and eating well. I forgot how good it felt to just eat without worrying. For the first few bites, I was in bliss but then I began to worry.

I was taking this seriously. I would get back to being healthy.

I would get back on track after a little time off work. Soon my marriage would be where it was supposed to be.

"If you keep this up by the end of the week you will be able to go home" she reassured as I stepped off. After a few questions, she left taking the scale with her.

I hated being in my room by myself. Any person that I could get my hands on acted as my security blanket.

My mother visited me every other day. And Tom came almost every day when he wasn't at work. Sometimes he would take work home just to finish the job here. He was resilient and kind, whatever I had done to him didn't matter.

Marriage wasn't about giving up. And seeing him so sure of everything made me want to try.

"I got you a latte" Tom smiled as he made his way around the bed. Snowflakes were caught in his hair and he looked handsome in his dress jacket.

I settled on the bed and he took a spot beside me once he had taken off his damp coat. Our shoulders rubbed together and I smiled as I sipped the warm drink.

"I've gained eight pounds" I smirked while the plastic top hit my lips.

Toms' face brightened at the news. Surely he was proud of me and that made me feel good.

"Wow, baby that's great!" His large hand came to clasp my face as he placed a kiss on my cheek.

"Speaking of great news" he murmured picking at the imaginary lint on his pants "I took a job at a different firm".

Tom had worked for his father straight out of college. He was incredibly smart and could have had any job that he wanted. But he worked for his dad because it meant something to him.

"What about your dad? Now that he has two offices he surely needs the help" I tried not to sound worried or to discourage him but it was odd he didn't speak to me first about it.

"I don't think family and business should be mixed. Besides after the official opening in London and Harry quitting it's just not what I want to do" his explanation was worth a lot and I could understand where he was coming from.

I would take the high road and agree with him.

"Whatever makes you happy" I smiled patting his thigh.

"I was thinking" he added again, "When you leave here I think staying with your parent's would be the best idea".

It fell silent between us and I didn't react the way I usually would. Surely Tom wasn't suggesting this because the end for us was near.

He must have felt differently about us after all that had happened.

Sighing I moved further away creating a large space between us.

"You're right" I agreed sadly. Placing the cup on the stand over my legs, I crossed my arms.

Tom took a second glance at me, surprised that I was being so mature about the whole thing. I didn't see the point in fighting. If you didn't give someone space they wouldn't be able to heal.

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