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He went back to the paved road. He wasn’t worried about what would come next. Maybe he’d lost the capacity to be worried. Things would work out. Or they wouldn’t. It didn’t really matter. Everything that mattered was already past.
He’d told Molly there were no what ifs. Of course there were. There always would be. There were so many things he’d never know and so many ways he’d never stop asking the questions. What if. What if he’d done it better?
