He just wanted to start over, to break free of his lies. To be a man worthy of Violet’s esteem. Even, her affection. His chest burned and he guessed he might be turning pale. The hike to Dottie’s house hadn’t helped, not to mention the adrenaline of the crash, the cold air constricting his lungs even more, drawing out the mucus, fisting his chest muscles. He fought to breathe as he stood, in through his nose, out through his mouth. He just had to calm down. Why hadn’t he let her drive by, out of his life, where she belonged? He had no right to stand in front of her, to deliver this news. Or rather, this lie. He married someone else, didn’t he? Her broken question had glued the truth inside him; he could taste the bitterness of it in the back of his throat. But worst of all was the expression on Violet’s face, the hurt in her eyes. Yes, he wanted to spool back the moments, all the way back to the moment when… When he’d read the letters she’d written to Alex and determined to take his place.
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