Part of me felt bad for him and the other part remembered everything that happened because of his mistakes.
Neither feeling was particularly useful. But by lunchtime the clubhouse felt ready to explode.
Arguments, stress and grief. Everyone carried too much of it. Including me.
Which was probably why Knox eventually grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the parking lot.
“Where we going?” I asked.
“Away.” He said and that answer sounded beautiful.
Twenty minutes later we sat beside a quiet lake outside town where nobody could interrupt us and nobody expected anything of us. There was no club, no war, just silence. The peaceful kind.
I sat beside Knox on the tailgate while afternoon sunlight reflected across the water.
For several minutes neither of us spoke. Then I leaned my h
