He held out his hand, open palmed, ready to shake.
I knew that this was the smart thing to do. We'd spent years at each other's throats, destroying almost everything we each held dear, all to try and end the other.
What I'd lost was matched only be what I'd given up in my quest to destroy him. I should shake his hand, make amends, and move on from this.
Instead, I shook his hand just long enough to pull a knife out and stab him.
As he fell, a knife fell from his other hand, so I felt better.
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