“Honey, please,” he whispered. “Tell her. Tell her I was just trying to help.”

“I raised you better than this.”

“I raised you better than this.”

I slipped off the running shoes he’d given me and dropped them in the gutter.

“You weren’t helping me,” I told him. “You were breaking me.”

Then I followed Diane to her car.

For the first time in ages, my body moved at a pace I chose.

And somewhere ahead of me, a quieter morning was already waiting.

“You weren’t helping me,”

“You weren’t helping me,”

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