Terrance
I watched my son, a lump forming in my throat, as he walked hand in hand with his grandmother, my former mistress's mother. She had been kind enough to take him in, but I knew that kindness came with its own price. I had left a substantial sum of money with her, enough to ensure my boy would be cared for. It was the least I could do after everything that had happened. As they disappeared into the house, I turned away, knowing I had to get my life in order before I could ever hope to be a part of his again.
Back at my place, I began the process of dismantling my life. I used social media to sell off the majority of the things I owned. The furniture, appliances, electronics – everything went. I watched as strangers came and took pieces of my life away, each transaction bringing me a little closer to the escape I so desperately needed.
