I could see the battle inside him. Pride versus fatherhood. Reputation versus reality.
Mark stared at the contract for a long moment. Then he looked up.
“If I do this,” he said slowly, “we’re done?”
“Yes.”
Mark picked up the pen. For a moment his hand hovered. Then he signed.
As he slid the contract back across the desk, his voice cracked. “I’ll be there.”
I nodded once, and he left.
I sat there afterward thinking about the conversation. For the first time since I was a teenager, I felt something close to fear—not of him, but of what I was about to relive.
Either way, the next day would decide who we both became.
The following morning, I walked into my old high school just before the assembly began. The building hadn’t changed much.
