I sped off like a getaway driver, ignoring the constantly buzzing phone and threat texts, continuing to press my foot down on the pedal. I’d been bestowed this spurt of courage and I’d use it while it lasted. Of course, the gas meter began dropping dangerously close to the red line. As a gas station slowly appeared, I felt dread—growing as I neared. I knew that once I stopped, this spurt of courage could be killed instantly by my enormous, inner coward:
Despite everything he has done he LOVES you. Drive back now and the punishment won’t be that painful.