He felt awful as he drove away. He could see her in the rear view mirror. Stooped over, hands on her knees, trying to catch a breath. Finally, she’d given up sprinting after him. The beaten old truck had barely managed to outrun her. At 36 years old, the Jeep was the same age as he was.
He closed his eyes, thinking of her warm smile, hearing her infectious laugh, longing for her endless (albeit stifling) comfort. He would miss her so much. Nevertheless, he knew he had made the right decision. It was time to move out of his mother’s house.