Stella tiptoed into my room one afternoon with a cast on her arm and a cherry Popsicle in her good hand. “If I ever get married someday, I hope my future husband is as brave as you.”
Just like that, it was all worth it.
Example number two: My Sentra.
I was eighteen, driving up to the Colorado mountains with bald tires, a half tank of gas, and my buddy riding shotgun, swearing we were headed into the greatest weekend of our lives.
The car didn’t make it.
We ended up stuck at a roadside diner all night, drinking burnt coffee, playing cards with a waitress named Midge, and betting on which trucker would fall asleep mid-story.
Best breakdown I ever had.
Example number three: Key West.
I had just left home, burned through most of my cash, and thought saltwater might fix what failures couldn’t.
I slept in my car, busked on street corners, and ate enough gas station sandwiches to question my will to live.
But the sunsets were biblical.
And for a little while, that felt like enough.
That leads me to my favorite mistake: Annalise Adams.
The one that didn’t wreck me all at once.
She did it slow. Quiet. With every look, every laugh, every song, every time she saw straight through the version of me I let the world believe.
And by the time I realized it, I didn’t want to be fixed.
I just wanted to be hers.
But then the headaches started. The changes. The fear. The world blurred, the music faded, and terror became a permanent fixture behind my ribs.
So I did the one thing I swore I’d never do.
I ran again.
I left her.
Told myself it was mercy. That disappearing was kinder than dragging her through the dark with me. I thought it would be easier for her to hate me than to watch me fall apart.
I figured if I left her angry, it’d hurt less in the long run.
I was trying to protect her, trying to spare myself the sound of her breaking.
But I’ve heard it anyway. Every day since.
Now, only time will tell if this mistake will end the same way as all the others.
Or if the lights finally go out for good.
Chapter 57Chase
Present Day
It takes a moment for my words to settle in. To click into place.
