“And we destroyed you,” he said quietly. “You were just a kid… and we destroyed you.”
My hand rested on the doorknob.
Part of me wanted to open it.
To let them see who I had become.
But another part—the one that remembered that seventeen-year-old walking away with nothing—held me back.
I stepped away from the door.
Sat down on the floor beside Duke.
They stayed outside for a while. Apologizing. Crying.
I didn’t answer.
Eventually, they left.
Their footsteps fading away.
Maybe one day I’ll open that door.
Maybe I won’t.
Healing doesn’t follow a straight line.
And forgiveness isn’t something anyone is owed.
But for the first time in ten years…
I had something I didn’t have before.
A choice.
And this time—
it was mine.
