Too Heavy for Tears, the Arrogant Cripple Broke Down Chapter 10

Too Heavy for Tears, the Arrogant Cripple Broke Down Chapter 10

The next morning, I went downstairs.

The black SUV was gone.

Only a paper bag remained on the ground.

Inside was a box of lemon bars I used to love and a note.

[I hope life treats you well from now on. —Evan Whitmore]

I took the lemon bars home, gave half to Mom, and ate the rest myself.

They were sweet, but once I finished them, nothing lingered.

That afternoon, I went to work as usual, wrote copy as usual, and stopped by the diner for a slice of cherry pie after work as usual.

The day was exactly the same as the one before, as though nothing had happened.

That evening, while updating my notes, I found a line I had written three years earlier.

[I want to see the Tetons turn gold at sunrise with Evan.]

I stared at it for a long time before deleting it.

Then I wrote a new line beneath it.

[Maybe the rest of my life doesn’t have to be filled with sunshine. A little rain might be nice too.]

Rain began to fall outside.

—

I left the window open.

The last few comments appeared.

[I hope the female lead has a good life from now on.]

[This really is the end, but it’s also a new beginning.]

[She deserves the chance to live for herself.]

Once a chance is missed, it is gone.

It wasn’t anyone’s fault. We had simply run out of time.