I didn’t need to throw the stubs away anymore. I knew exactly what they were now. They were the price of admission for a show I never got to watch.

I turned out the light. I think I’ll leave the box on the shelf. It belongs there.

It belongs to the version of him that I loved, even if that version was only half the story.

End of story — Part 3 of 3
amomana

amomana

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