Her words echoed in my head, and it made my chest swell and ache. I choose to love you. As the sun peeked over the horizon, casting a deep glow on the road ahead, I couldn’t help but lose myself in the memory. She’d chosen me. And then I’d chosen my job. Regret was a motherfucker. Layne couldn’t have been more right about love, though. It was something you had to constantly fight for. It didn’t come easily or without being tested. Her leaving was proof enough of how right she was. One could argue she hadn’t chosen me when she moved to California. I’d argued that point to myself many times over the last year. However, it couldn’t have been further from the truth. Yes, she’d chosen herself, her dreams and her life, and she’d moved away, leaving me behind. All the while, I’d made the decision to pick me, pick my career, my life over hers. Had I decided to leave North Carolina and move across the country with her, I wouldn’t have been out anything.
