The last time I made an error of judgment, it was in the form of a broken condom while propped against the arm of the couch, cheek pressed into the top of a cushion. It had resulted in my daughter. Even though I loved Gravity more than life itself and would never change the outcome of that so-called mistake, the trajectory of my life had changed completely because of it. I’d become a coward, too afraid of making mistakes. But this was a mistake. This town. This job. This aimless life. I deserved more, and so did Grav. I could always come back here. But something wild and rebellious and newly
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