{ "item_title" : "Enough", "item_author" : [" Rowan Vale "], "item_description" : "He had already decided how it would end.The house smelled like chemicals and sweat. Everyone in it was chasing silence - not peace, not happiness, just silence. He was thirty-five years old, sitting on the edge of a bed, and he could not remember how he got there.To understand that night, you have to go back to the water.A pool behind his grandmother's house, the skimmer moving across the surface in the blue light before dawn. A restaurant on the St. Croix River, where a small boy stood on milk crates to crack eggs, worked the dishroom faster than the grown-ups, and an old man named Ray nodded at him from the same stool every morning. A prayer said beside her bed in the lamplight, and the sound of her breathing as he fell asleep.The one place in the world his body didn't brace.He didn't know yet how rare that was.Then came a long driveway outside of town, and a truck coming up it. Slow meant an ordinary night. Fast meant something else. He learned the math so completely he stopped noticing he was doing it - the weight of a closing door, the pace of footsteps in the garage, the specific silence that meant something was coming. At seven, he prayed for it to stop. When it didn't, he reached the only conclusion a seven-year-old can.He was on his own.So he learned to read every room. To be useful. To disappear.Wear camouflage long enough, and you forget what you look like without it.He carried it everywhere. Into a boxing gym with cobalt-blue walls, the one room where the act either held up or it didn't. Into a marriage. Into fatherhood, and two daughters he loved more than anything he had ever been. Into every job, every relationship, every room - becoming whoever each one needed, handing over a little more of himself each time to be allowed to stay.Boxer. Husband. Father. A man sleeping in his truck.He was all of them. None of them was him.There is a courthouse hallway in this story. A father kissing his youngest daughter goodbye and telling her he'll be back. He has never once tried to make it sound like anything other than what it was.Which is how he came to be on the edge of that bed, in that house, with his mind made up.It was not an accident. It was not a cry for help. It was a decision.Then something in him said two words.ENOUGH is a true story about the thing underneath everything else - what it costs to become everyone but yourself, and what it takes to find your way back. It is for anyone who has ever shaped themselves to survive a room, and woken up one day unsure who was left.This expanded second edition adds seven new chapters that carry the story past the place where most stories stop - past survival, and into the harder question waiting on the other side of it: Who are you when there's no one left to perform for?The way back to yourself exists. I walked it. So can you.- Rowan Vale", "item_img_path" : "https://covers2.booksamillion.com/covers/bam/9/79/823/423/9798234233721_b.jpg", "price_data" : { "retail_price" : "22.99", "online_price" : "22.99", "our_price" : "22.99", "club_price" : "22.99", "savings_pct" : "0", "savings_amt" : "0.00", "club_savings_pct" : "0", "club_savings_amt" : "0.00", "discount_pct" : "10", "store_price" : "" } }

Overview

Customers Also Bought

Details