Strings of Fate: The First Loop

CHAPTER 55 - SO, I KEPT RUNNING...

> Must've done something right
'Cause God put you by my side...

I felt everything. His regret. My anger. Our ache. And beneath it all, this stupid, stubborn thing we kept calling love even when it hurt to say it out loud. He didn’t say a word. He just held me like I was fragile, but not broken.

> Spin you 'round the kitchen, cross the floor
Leave the dirty dishes…

His thumb brushed against the base of my spine, a gentle reminder that this wasn’t a fantasy. It was a boy, real, imperfect, and finally honest, asking for a second chance in the language of rhythm and repentance.

> When there's lines on our skin…
Every one reminds me of every trip 'round the sun…

I closed my eyes and pressed my cheek against his. For a heartbeat, I allowed myself to imagine a future that wasn’t scorched by memory. A small, ordinary life where forgiveness didn’t taste like surrender but strength.

The song came to its quiet close. And so did we. We stopped moving, but neither of us let go. Forehead to forehead, breath to breath. Then James spoke. His voice cracked like soft thunder.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me now. Not after what I’ve done. But still… I want to apologize for hurting you. I have no excuses. I caused you and everyone around us pain that maybe I can’t mend. I would do everything just to earn your forgiveness. Climb the highest mountains, swim the deepest oceans, I would chase your forgiveness to the ends of heaven or the depths of hell. B… even after all this time, I’m still deeply, madly, crazily in love with you. But I’ve stopped hating myself for what I did and started doing my best to deserve your love and my place in your life. I figured no grand gestures or any song would bring you back. So instead… I kept going. I’m just trying to be the man you, my dad, everyone, even myself, hoped I would be. B… I’m truly sorry.”

He leaned in slowly, eyes searching mine. Not hungry for permission, but for hope.

I froze.

Then gently, tenderly, I placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back. A breath escaped me like a dam breaking. My hands trembled, not from fear, but from everything. Because I had been building walls out of survival. Because I had crafted a new self just to stay afloat. And yet, his honesty didn’t knock those walls down. It simply invited me to step outside them.

And I couldn’t. Not yet.

My heart cracked in half, for him, for me, for everything we almost were. Tears flooded my eyes. This should’ve been beautiful. A moment they’d write songs about. But all I could feel was the ache of something unfinished.

“I-I… I’m sorry,” I whispered, voice barely there. “I just can’t right now, James. I’m sorry.”

Then I ran. And I hated that I ran. Because for the first time in a long time, I didn’t run to forget him. I ran because I still remembered everything.

And it hurt. So much. So I kept on running.

The wind bit against my skin as I curled into myself on the rooftop, my breath shallow and ragged. My arms wrapped around my knees, as if holding myself tightly enough could stop me from falling apart entirely. The concrete beneath me was rough and cold, scratching the back of my thighs through my dress, but I didn’t care. The sun had long since dipped behind the clouds, casting everything in a dull gray that matched the hollowness inside me. I sobbed. Not the delicate, cinematic kind of crying, but the kind that scrapes your throat and makes your ribs ache. The kind where you forget to wipe your tears because you’re too busy drowning in them. I hated myself. I hated how, even now, after everything, after all the words, all the pain, I still couldn’t bring myself to be okay.