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I stepped out of the house, feeling the weight of everything I had just done pressing against my chest. It felt like a strange kind of victory, but at the same time, the knowledge that I had set the stage for something so much bigger was hard to shake. As I climbed into my car, I couldn’t help but feel an odd mix of satisfaction and guilt, the laxative working its way through his system, the image of his struggle still fresh in my mind.
I drove to the bar, trying to keep my emotions in check. But every few seconds, I found myself smiling uncontrollably, as if I had just won the lottery. Maybe it was just the satisfaction of knowing I had done something he would never forget. Something he had brought upon himself.