The truth was that even if I didn’t want to show it to them, I really was wondering about myself, and what I had become. I had killed men before but at that point there really was no choice. Now I had justified my actions by saying that it was the only way of saving innocent people - and my family. But somewhere there, deep inside me, was the shadow of a doubt. Maybe I should just admit that I had become a cold-hearted killer.Suddenly I noticed in the mirror that Pam was awake, and was looking at me.“Dad, you did the right thing. You always do the right thing.”Those words coming from my sixteen year old daughter made me feel a bit better. I just was not sure if she would feel the same in the future. In a way I was surprised that she felt like that right now, or maybe she was almost as good as me in hiding her real emotions. Somewhere deep inside me, I also wondered why it always had to be me who did the right thing?Even though I drove slowly, it didn’t take me the whole night to. "I'm not sorry a bit," I barely hear you say as you return your head to resting on my chest. The next several hours raced by in what seemingly was an instant. We had spent them just talking and exploring the starlit sky. It seemed the more we talked, the more we found we have in common .You ask if I'd like to go for another walk and I confirm I would. This time though, our walk along the moonlit beach was different. This time, you had reached out your hand to me and I gently but eagerly grasp hold of it with mine. After a while I let go of your hand and repositioned my hand on your waist. You similarly, put your hand on my waist and we continued our walk. Eventually we turn around and head back toward the secluded beach front cabin I had rented for the summer. I had invited you to come spend the day, and after some extra coaxing, you agreed and now you were glad you had. Walking along, I steadily slid my hand further down over your hip. "I know what you want, Art, and if you really.
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