In truth, Flint never thought he need face up to his actions. Because of Thomas, he remade himself as a monster, to England and himself. Once Miranda was gone, there was no one to question it. No one to tie him to his former self.
But now he lies in Thomas’s arms, wondering who his lover sees. Is it the relic of James McGraw? A man Flint barely remembers.
Perhaps Thomas has changed as much, hard as it is to believe. The man beside him is sun-drenched and weary. Who’s to say he is the same man Flint left behind?