_OceanofPDF.com_The_Girl_on_the_Train_-_Paula_Hawkins

MEGAN
• • •
THURSDAY, MARCH 21, 2013
MORNING
I don’t lose. He should know this about me. I don’t lose games like this.
The screen on my phone is blank. Stubbornly, insolently blank. No
text messages, no missed calls. Every time I look at it, it feels like I’ve
been slapped, and I get angrier and angrier. What happened to me in that
hotel room? What was I thinking? That we made a connection, that there
was something real between us? He has no intention of going anywhere
with me. But I believed him for a second—more than a second—and
that’s what really pisses me off. I was ridiculous, credulous. He was
laughing at me all along.
If he thinks I’m going to sit around crying over him, he’s got another
think coming. I can live without him, I can do without him just fine—but
I don’t like to lose. It’s not like me. None of this is like me. I don’t get
rejected. I’m the one who walks away.
I’m driving myself insane, I can’t help it. I can’t stop going back to
that afternoon at the hotel and going over and over what he said, the way
he made me feel.
Bastard.
If he thinks I will just disappear, go quietly, he’s mistaken. If he
doesn’t pick up soon, I’m going to stop calling his mobile and call him at
home. I’m not just going to be ignored.
At breakfast, Scott asks me to cancel my therapy session. I don’t say
anything. I pretend I haven’t heard him.
“Dave’s asked us round to dinner,” he says. “We haven’t been over
there for ages. Can you rearrange your session?”
His tone is light, as though this is a casual request, but I can feel him
watching me, his eyes on my face. We’re on the edge of an argument,
and I have to be careful.