My ramblings help neutralize the acid in his tone. I struggle to understand why a callous, rude encounter with a friend's older brother would leave him so broken that fifteen years later he is still lashing out.
He keeps me at a distance, trying to hide the power that I have over him even now.
The oppressive air is replaced with my own guilt, weighing on my shoulders until my knees buckle.
I hear the accusations, even those he doesn't voice, and I have no choice but to agree.
A hand covers his eyes. The fight leaves him. "Just go."
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