Strings of Fate: The First Loop

CHAPTER 23

Betty sniffled, half-laughing through her tears. “Of course it’s this song.”

I smiled too. But only for a second.

Because I saw her. Really saw her.

Eyes glassy but glowing. Lips trembling but fierce. The corner of her dress dirtied by the street. Her fingers still clenched in the fabric of my shirt like she needed something to hold her to the earth. And right then, she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

> Drop everything now
Meet me in the pouring rain
Kiss me on the sidewalk
Take away the pain…

I lifted her chin gently. Her brown eyes caught the lamplight.

> ’Cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile…

I kissed her. Right there- on the lips, under the flickering streetlight, her hair still curled from the night, her cheeks damp with tears.

I didn’t care about the world.
I didn’t care about my dad.
Or what this meant tomorrow.

I just cared about her.
And that kiss.

> Just keep on keeping your eyes on me
It’s just wrong enough to make it feel right…

It wasn’t fireworks, it wasn’t thunder. It was something softer. But it was still a spark. And for the first time in a long time… I let it catch fire.

It was a long kiss.

The kind that emptied everything I’d ever tried to bury. The kind that made the world slow and small- just the two of us on this quiet street corner under the dull gold light of a flickering lamppost, like the universe dimmed the rest of existence just so this one kiss could glow. Her lips were soft, warmer than I expected. A little chapped from crying, but she tasted like tears and something faintly floral, like cherry blossom tea and the ghost of mint lip balm. Her skin smelled like summer, coconut lotion, soap, and sun-warmed cotton. It was sweet and painfully familiar. Like a memory I never made but always somehow missed. Her breath trembled against mine. I felt the tears on her cheeks mixing with mine and didn’t care. I kissed her harder. I kissed her like every moment in my life had only ever been a breadcrumb trail leading me here. Her hands gripped the sides of my jacket, pulling me closer, and I let her. I would’ve let her tear me apart if it meant she’d feel safe. I was burning. Not the bad kind, the kind where your chest cracks open like dry earth and something soft and alive and holy pushes through. Like I was being rewritten from the inside out. My hands framed her face, my thumbs brushing her cheeks. Her eyelashes were damp, clumped together like delicate petals. Her hair tickled my fingers, strands catching the light like gold thread. Everything around us disappeared. No cars, no wind, no distant hum of music. Just her.

Just Betty.

When we finally pulled apart, our foreheads touched and our eyes stayed closed, breathing each other in like we were trying to memorize the moment. My world felt louder, sharper. The colors richer. The air cooler against my flushed skin. And in all of that stillness, she was the only thing that felt real. I wiped the tears from her face, cradling her cheek with the back of my hand. Her eyes fluttered open, red, swollen, beautiful. I took a deep breath and said what I should’ve said a long time ago.

“B,” I said softly, my thumb brushing her cheek, “I’ve loved you.”

She blinked, a fresh tear slipping down. I let it fall. I wanted to remember her exactly like this.

“I think I loved you before I even understood what love really meant. You walked into school that day with your head down but your shoulders up, like you’d already learned to carry the weight of things most people couldn’t see. You weren’t trying to impress anyone. You weren’t afraid either. You were just… you. And I was already gone.”