Horse sat on the hard plastic chair and waited.
A few minutes ago, just a few fucking minutes, everything was fine. We were talking and laughing, really talking, for the first time in years. No, that couldn’t be right. Years. Shit. It’s my fault. I never should have taken that job. Halfway across the country. Needed to be free. On my own. Out from his shadow and he had a big one. Has. Has. Can’t think that way. They said this kind of thing happens. Routine. They’d know. They’re professionals.
He looked up and saw the doctor approaching with reluctance.