Whoever said time heals all wounds was full of crap.
In my experience, all it does is allow the anger to fester, letting it build to something akin to hate.
And hate is what I feel when Lincoln Calloway is the one who meets me at the airport.
The arrogant jerk broke my heart ten years ago and humiliated me in front of everyone we knew. He chose a life of pain and gave into his addiction despite my promise to help him.
Now, he tells me he's sorry, that he desires to make amends, but all I want to do is show him everything he missed out on by turning his back on me.
I try not to care that he's here, helping my family when they need it most. Try to ignore
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