Chapter Twenty-four

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My hands gripped the steering wheel as I sped my car down the road, headed to a place I was sure I would be unwelcome. Since I had started the trip, I had second-guessed what I was doing. Even now, four hours in, I debated turning around. Sure, his mother had invited me to the event, but it was a definite accident. A request sent to the masses that knew Barlow. His mother did not understand she had invited his murderer. But she would. Because I would tell her and I would accept whatever tongue lashing she gave. She could even slap me if she wanted. I knew I deserved it. Just as she deserved an apology from me, no matter how hard it might be.

There were another four hours to go; four hours to decide if I wanted to do this. Luckily, the good side continuously won out over the scared side, and I was glad about that. I was stronger than I had thought I'd be. My eyes flicked to Luke, who had been kind enough to go with me when I told him about my plans. It was something I had been debating the past three months—ever since I had come back from therapy.

I had even told him what happened, which was hard. And how had he reacted? Like I had honestly expected him to. Accepting and understanding. I didn't think I deserved that, but I was getting better at pushing aside negative thoughts and replacing them with good ones. It didn't matter if I deserved it or not. That is how Luke had responded to me, and I appreciated it with everything inside of me.

"Do you have any idea what you'll say when you get there?"

"No. I mean, how do you even say something like that to someone? Sorry I killed your son." I cringed as the words came out of my mouth. They were insensitive, and I hadn't meant to say them.

"Well, definitely not like that," Luke responded, but there was no judgment in his voice. "I don't know what you should say but... I know you'll figure it out when you get there."

"If we get there. I'm still half debating turning around." It was mostly a joke, but Luke took it seriously.

"I know that probably seems like the easiest thing to do, but you'll feel way better if you apologize.

"I'm still not sure I deserve to feel–"

"Nope, don't finish that statement."

I let out a light sigh. He was right. I couldn't finish that statement. It was negative and not conducive to the situation. "I will feel better about her getting a long-overdue apology."

"Exactly."

I smiled. "Thanks for coming with me."

"Of course."

~*~

"I'm not sure I can do this, Luke." I had parked the car a block away from his mom's house.

It was a tribute to honor her son as a veteran on Veteran's Day, and who was I to come to crash it? Was I stupid?

"Yes you can–"

"I'm basically crashing a memorial."

"What you're doing is a good thing. I promise."

It was impossible not to second guess him, even if I did trust him. What if he was wrong? What if he were looking at it with too much optimism? What was he expecting would happen? But when I voiced my concern, Luke only shrugged and said, "Even if you get slapped, at least you let them know how badly you feel. You deserve to let it go. It was an accident."

Doctor Forrester had said the same thing, but I didn't know how right they were. Although it was an accident, the word didn't justify the action. I had killed someone, the accident part didn't matter.

I shook my head. The accident part did matter. It made all the difference.

"If you want, we can stay the night nearby and you can come back by here tomorrow. Then there's no memorial to crash and only her to talk to."

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