Book of Boris — Chapter XLIV: The Debt I Didn’t Owe
Some debts are measured in dollars. Others are measured in history.
Years ago, I burned more than money. I burned trust, time, and the kind of ground you can’t just replant overnight. Bad choices. Dumb spending. A pride too big to see the walls closing in.
Someone else had to pick up what I dropped. They didn’t do it for applause. They didn’t do it because they wanted to. They did it because, back then, the alternative was losing everything our family had bled for.
We’ve never been on perfect terms. Sometimes we clash, sometimes we avoid each other entirely. But the truth? The ledger between us has always been open — not in guilt, but in fact.
Now, years later, the scales tilt again. Another weight threatens to drop. And this time… I can lift it.
Not because I have to. Not because anyone asked me to. But because some debts aren’t paid in words or apologies. They’re paid in action. Quietly. Without ceremony. Without warning.
Not to rewrite the past — but to close the page. Ledger clear. No crown taken. No bridge rebuilt. Just… balance.
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