She tugged at the shoulders and then pushed on one to make me turn again. I faced her, but rolled my head back in frustration. I didn’t mind my girl... going with me to help pick out clothes, but this was Alyssa. She and I weren’t about to find out how quickly she could remove my shirt later tonight.“You’re right,” she said softly. “It is a bit tight. Try the other one on.”I looked at her, but she stood there waiting for me to change. Fine! Whatever! I took off that shirt, which she took and hung. Tom felt her body being wracked by sobs. "Yes. That's part of it.I just feel like everything is a mess. Like my life is out of control."Tom sank into Stacy's arms and let her friend comfort her.Too slowly, following a Sunday of discomfort, crying, and generaldespair, Monday rolled around. A Sunday of trying to jog, butbeing too sore. Of trying to watch a ball game, but not being ableto concentrate for the aches and general discomfort. A long,tortuous, agonizingly slow Sunday. And it was. More

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