The last thing I want to do is rub my new life in Hayes’s face. Not when he’s been going through hell while I’ve been living in a mansion and working at my dream job. It should be the other way around. I should be the one suffering while he’s living his ideal life. Not to say I haven’t had a hard time. I mean, it was months and took prescription medication before I was able to sleep through the night without Hayes by my side. But saying my problems compare to his is like saying a skinned knee is the same as a gunshot wound.
