ADVERTISEMENT
Three days later, I found him.
Someone pointed me toward a parking lot on the edge of town.
And there he was, sitting inside an old car.
ADVERTISEMENT
For a moment, I just stared.
He looked thinner. Exhausted. Like life had been quietly wearing him down.
I knocked on the window.
When he saw me, something flickered across his face—not anger, not resentment.
Just acceptance.
Like he’d always known this moment would come.
He opened the door.
“Hey,” he said softly.
My throat tightened.
“You’ve been living here?”
He shrugged.
“It’s temporary.”
“For six months?”
He didn’t answer.
Of course it wasn’t temporary.
It was sacrifice.
A heavy silence settled between us.
“I know,” I finally whispered. “About the debt. About everything.”
He looked away.
“I didn’t want Mom to know how bad it was,” he said quietly. “And I didn’t want you worrying either.”
“So you let me hate you?”
A tired smile crossed his face.
“It seemed easier.”
That word nearly broke me.
Easier.
See more on the next page to continue reading →
ADVERTISEMENT
