Strings of Fate: The First Loop

CHAPTER 51 - MAKING AMENDS

He took a sip. Exhaled. "You've got guts showing up here."

"I figured I owed you and everyone that much."

He didn't answer.

I swallowed. "I know I broke something. I didn't just hurt Betty. I hurt the people who love her. That includes you. And... I'm not here to ask you to forgive me. I just want you to know I see it now. All of it. What I cost her. How much she had to burn just to make it through."

Mr. Finn finally looked me in the eye. "You think you're the first boy to break my daughter's heart?"

I didn't answer.

"You're not," he said flatly. "But you are the first one she stopped talking about. That silence? That wasn't distance. That was grief."

I winced. Every word landed like a weight on my chest.

"I know," I whispered.

He studied me for a long moment, then sighed, the sound older than he looked. "You love her."

It wasn't a question. I nodded anyway.

"I do."

Another sip of coffee. Another pause. Then, slowly:

"She's not the same girl who used to hum while slicing mangoes in our old kitchen. Not since... well. Not since your mess. But also not since her mother passed. She's been changing for a while now. You didn't start the fire, son. But you threw gas on it."

I felt my throat tighten.

"I know," I said again, quieter. "And I'm not trying to win her back today. I'm just trying to be someone she could believe in again. Even if it takes a lifetime."

That finally made him blink. He set the cup down. Walked toward the window. Then turned.

"You want to know the truth?" he said. "I don't like you. I don't like what you did. I don't like the way you made her question herself, like she wasn't enough. But."

That word hung there, heavy and dangerous.

"But I've also seen how she looked at you. Before everything fell apart."

He stepped closer now, voice low and firm.

"And I've seen how you look when you think no one's watching. That boy isn't fake. That boy isn't a monster. That boy is scared he lost the only good thing he ever had."

My voice cracked. "I am."

He nodded once.

"I believe people aren't the worst thing they've done. If I believed otherwise, I'd have lost faith in my own blood years ago. So here's what I'll say."

He stepped forward, until we were eye to eye.

"You want her back? Don't chase her. Earn her. Quietly. Patiently. And not for you. For her. Because the truth is, James..."

His voice dropped like a stone in a still lake.

"You're the only one I've ever seen bring her back to life."

I swallowed hard.

"She's not broken," he added. "She's just waiting to see if you're worth trusting again."

He picked up his rag, turned back to the truck, and tossed over his shoulder: "Start there. You want my forgiveness? Live like you deserve hers."

The engine roared to life as he twisted the wrench again, and I stood there in the noise, breath tight, hands shaking, but heart steady.