I woke up covered in sweat. I was gasping for breath as the memories of the dream started to fade. I was not in the desert and Martin was nowhere near. I did not nail him to a wooden cross. No. It was all just a dream. It was a warm morning in May 2013 and I was in a small apartment at the southern tip of the gorgeous island of Phuket. It was paradise here in Thailand. I should have felt blessed and happy, but all I could think about, day and night, was Martin and his betrayal.
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