45
Grant
Everything rushed to me at once.
I’d pulled a gun on my father.
I’d almost shot Ari.
My father had apologized.
I’d almost shot Ari.
No matter what else had happened in the span of the last half hour that reality seemed to hit me the hardest. I could have killed my girlfriend, the love of my f*****g life, just like my father had killed my mother.
I was a monster.
I was a f*****g monster.
As soon as the door closed behind my dad, I dropped painfully onto my knees and buried my head in my hands. A sob tried to wrack my body, but I pushed it deep down inside of me. In a matter of minutes, my dad had cracked open the black hole where I stored up thirteen years of depression, anger, pain, and endless, bottomless, eternal grief.
I f*****g hated him. I hated everything he stood
