Unlike my momma’s.
No, she had to suffer for over two years, her body giving up at an agonizing pace, leaving her mind for last so she’d be completely aware of how she was dying. The memories slice through my mind’s eye, my dad holding her limp body, roaring his anger at God.
It was sitting in that cold church, watching every person in our town filter past me with words they hoped would ease my pain. That was when I decided I’d get out of Payson the second I graduated and never go back. I was angry, starving for a fight. Desperate to have my dad back rather than the empty man with the dead eyes who she left us with. He hated that I was leaving, never understood my need to run, to do all the things I promised my momma I’d do. We fought. Hard. Unforgivable words were exchanged, and we haven’t managed to patch our relationship since.
Now I’m crawling back to beg for mercy, the prodigal child, broke, jobless, and with debt hanging off me like dead weight. If there’s one thing I know for sure, Nash Jennings will never let me live this down.
He might be a proud man, but I’m just as proud. I’ll need time to save money, figure out my options, and the second I do I’m out of there. Yeah, this is my best option.
I’m meant for big things. This is simply a speed bump.