“You have until the end of the assembly. Funds will be transferred immediately afterward if you fulfill the agreement.”
“I don’t have time for this.”
“Claire… I was a kid,” he said weakly.
“So was I.”
I could see the war inside him. Pride versus fatherhood. Image versus reality.
Mark stared at the contract for a long time. Then he looked up.
“If I do this,” he said slowly, “we’re done?”
“Yes.”
Pride versus fatherhood. Image versus reality.
Mark picked up the pen. For a second, his hand hovered. Then he signed.
As he slid the contract back to me, his voice cracked. “I’ll be there.”
I nodded once, and then he left.
I sat there mulling the conversation over. For the first time since I was a teenager, I felt something close to fear. Not of him, but of what I was about to relive.
Either way, the following day would decide who we both became.
“I’ll be there.”
The following morning, I walked into my old high school right before the assembly. The building hadn’t changed much.
The principal, Mrs. Dalton, greeted me near the auditorium doors. “We appreciate your involvement in the anti-bullying initiative,” she said warmly. “It means a lot to our students.”
“I’m glad to support it,” I replied.
But that, of course, wasn’t the whole truth.
