CHAPTER 5: A DIFFERENT KIND OF ENDING
Years later, I stood in a small park… holding my child’s hand.
No luxury. No lies. Just quiet, honest life.
I had paid for everything I did.
And somehow… I was still given a second chance.
I saw him once.
Across the street.
He looked at me… then at the child.
There was no anger left.
Just distance.
And maybe… a trace of something that used to be love.
We didn’t speak.
We didn’t need to.
Because some stories don’t end with forgiveness.
They end with understanding.
May you like
And sometimes—
That’s the only redemption you get.
