Jason Davenport
I sat on one of the old chairs at the pool after practice. I'd wanted to take a swim as I was very sweaty, but I decided to sit and relax for a while.
After all, there was no rush to head on home. After the incident regarding Dad and Ashley, I wasn't sure how I felt. I knew I felt a great deal of stupid. But mostly it was. . . pain.
I'd wanted to be right. I'd needed to be right. Being right meant that Ashley would disappear from our lives and that Dad and I would have a chance to work on our relationship. Being right meant that I'd never have to regard anyone else as my mother. Being right meant that I wouldn't have to call anyone else 'mom' and have to experience the pain and anger that came with it.
But I'd been wrong.