In the morning, Rachel Foster sat on the bed, letting her chaotic thoughts race through her mind.
She had actually dreamt all night...
The dream was filled with images of him lying on a cold hospital bed undergoing treatment. He was in pain, yet he was calling her name... and she was sitting beside him, gripping his hand tightly, tears streaming down her face.
Perhaps it was because he mentioned his treatment yesterday that she had such a dream...
Rachel buried her head in her knees.
He had mentioned that she didn't hope for his return yesterday, and she could have explained it to him, but...
Why explain?
It didn't matter how he viewed her anymore. After all, their entanglement was over.
After her daze ended, Rachel got out of bed and walked into the bathroom. From then on, this room would bear the traces of their lives. His razor and other personal items were in the toilet, suddenly making the previously empty space more live-in.
