Biker Ripped Car Door Off With His Bare Hands to Pull Trapped Girl From Flames

and I’d cried the whole drive home.

That was 2010.

Two weeks later I got a certified letter from a lawyer saying I was not to contact Rachel or her daughter again. Rachel had seen the way I smelled of whiskey that night at dinner. She wasn’t wrong to send the letter.

I’d been sober four thousand, two hundred, and seventeen days as of this morning.

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