Leaving town with Peyton made about as much sense as faking my death. On some level, it felt like the coward’s way out. Between the two of us we’d made a shitload of mistakes, and we needed to deal with them, but we were putting them behind us.
For me, that meant closing the door on my history with the old man. I had to stop seeing him as the enemy. Had to stop thinking that I’d end up just like him. I packed up his ugly ass in a tight box and set it on fire—figuratively. Burying the man, at least in my mind, was my way of moving forward.
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