Strings of Fate: The First Loop

CHAPTER 29

-----Betty-----

His lip is split open, raw and swelling. The blood has slowed, but the bruise will bloom overnight, purple turning green like the sky before a storm. I dab a cotton ball against it, gentle, trembling, afraid of hurting him more than he already is. James winces, but he doesn’t flinch away. He just watches me, like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he blinks.

“I’m sorry, babe. I don’t know what came over me…”

His voice is small. Not the kind of small that begs forgiveness. The kind that already believes it doesn’t deserve it.

I don’t answer right away. I can still hear the crowd jeering, see the plastic cup that bounced off his shoulder, the silence that fell after he pushed Matt and the sound of Matt's fist agaist his face. I didn’t imagine the game would end like this. Not with the scoreboard forgotten and everything good cracked down the center.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say, finally. My voice sounds steadier than I feel. “What’s done is done, okay?”

But it does matter. Of course it does. The world saw him lose control. They’ll call him reckless, violent. Just like they always do. Just like he’s afraid they’re right. And still, he’s James. Mine. Beautiful, broken, stubborn-hearted James. To me, he’s not a label, not a headline, not a moment frozen in someone else’s judgment. He’s a boy who carries too much and hides it in jokes. A boy who holds my hand like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to earth.

“D-do you hate me?” he asks.

The words split me more than the crowd ever could. I see it in his face, the pain, the shame. The boy who had to walk through a tunnel of scorn with his head down and fists clenched, because if he didn’t, he might shatter. I hold his face between my palms. His skin is warm beneath my fingertips, flushed from the weight of it all.

“How could I hate the boy I love?” I whisper.

His eyes search mine like he’s trying to find the lie in them. But there’s none. Just me, raw and real.

“I’m a little disappointed, though.”

He looks down, the sentence hitting harder than a punch ever could.

“But it doesn’t mean I love you any less, baby.” I brush a strand of hair away from his forehead. “We’re human. And humans mess up. Sometimes spectacularly.”

He opens his mouth to respond, maybe to defend himself or apologize again, but I cut in, soft, firm.

“And Matt isn’t any better. Neither of you held back.”

His shoulders sag in defeat. But I pull him into a hug, wrap my arms around him like a safety net. His chest is still heaving with guilt, but I hope he feels how steady I am. At least for now.

Maybe I should be falling apart, too. Maybe I am. Quietly. Invisibly. But love makes you stronger in strange ways. Like a lighthouse staying lit in a storm, not because the storm isn’t real, but because someone has to guide the ship. I pull back, tilt my head, and smile the smallest smile.

“Ice cream?”
He blinks at me, confused.

“I think you’ve earned cookies and cream. Extra scoops,” I add.

He lets out a breath, part laugh, part relief. And just like that, the weight lessens, if only a little. We both know the world hasn’t forgiven him.

But for tonight, I have. And maybe that’s enough.

We end up on the curb outside a convenience store two blocks from the gym. James has a small bag of frozen peas pressed against his cheek, and I’m holding our melting cones like they’re fragile gifts we don’t quite deserve.