Page 714 - Anonymous
P. 714
looks a state. He hasn't shaved in days,
he's halfway through a bottle of whiskey.
He looks up at me with bloodshot eyes.
A tear slips down his cheek.
“I’m sorry, Sin,” he tells me. I sit
at the island across from him. “I should
have done better by you and the girls.
There is no excuse for what I did, to all
of you, even Chelsea.”
It still stings to be reminded.
