Drop Shot (1996), page 26
"There were other ways to make him pay," Myron said.
"How?" Win scoffed. "By arresting him? No one would press charges. And even if all was revealed as per your plan, what would happen to him? He'd probably write a book and go on Oprah. He'd tell the world how he'd been abused as a child or some such nonsense. He'd be an even bigger celebrity." Win took another putt. Another make. "We're not the same, you and I. We both know that But it's okay."
"It's not okay."
"Yes, it is. If we were the same it wouldn't work. We'd both be dead by now. Or insane. We balance each other. It's why you're my best friend. It's why I love you."
Silence.
"Don't do it again," Myron said.
Win did not reply. He lined up another putt.
"Did you hear me?"
"It's time to move on," Win said. "This incident is in the past. You know better than to try to control the future."
More silence. Win sank another putt.
"Jessica is waiting," Win said. "She told me to remind you about her new oils."
Myron turned and left then. He felt unclean and unsure. But he knew Win was right: it was over. It would just take a bit of time for things to feel normal again. He would recover.
And, Myron thought as he headed into the elevator, what better way to start the healing process than with Jessica's oils?
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Harlan - Myron 02 Coben, Drop Shot (1996)
