Page 68 of Frayed Bonds

“I’ll go get the card.”

“I could barely find it under all of the flowers, your kitchen smells like a perfume store by the way,” she says, handing me an envelope.

In large swooping sloping cursive letters ‘Valerie’ is written across the front, and I drop the envelope onto my lap.

“What if I don't want to read it?”

“How bad could it be?” She asks, and I simply stare at the paper in my lap. “If you don't open it, I will,” She threatens, and I almost jump away with the envelope.

Valerie,

I've been wrestling with myself non-stop since everything happened between us this morning. I am a total salted caramel latte-deserving asshole, and I can't shake off the guilt I feel for how I acted.

I want to start by saying I am sorry for crossing a line. Everything with your father was your own business, and I should have trusted you to handle things your way, without wanting to know or get involved. My meddling only made things worse, and I regret not respecting your space.

And then, pushing you to tell me the truth—I messed up big time there too. You had your reasons for wanting to keep it to yourself and I should have respected that. I get it now, and I'm sorry.

Honestly, I felt like a complete idiot when I found out why you were late. I jumped to conclusions without knowing what was going on. I was an insensitive idiot, and I don’t think I can begin to apologise enough for how I treated you and made you feel.

Valerie, what I'm trying to say is, I care about you. More than I probably should. I hate that my actions hurt you because that was the last thing I wanted. In all honesty, it’s the complete opposite of how I wanted the morning to go. These flowers–they're a horrible attempt to say sorry. But they come with a whole lot of regret and a heap of hope that you might forgive me.

I know all the "I’m sorry’s” I've written here may never be enough to make up for how I've treated you, but I'm willing to learn from this mess. I want to be the guy who's there for you, who listens, and who respects your boundaries.

If you are willing to, I want to be the guy who gets to make it up to you in person, where hopefully my actions can convey my apology better than these flowers can.

(I hope you like them, they reminded me of you)

I hope you can forgive me. I want to make things right between us, maybe even better than before. Your friendship You mean the world to me, and I'm hoping this apology can start fixing what I broke.

Sorry again, sweetheart. I hope you can give me a chance to make it up to you.

Ambrose

I stare at the page, then re-read it again and then one more time for good measure.

Only when a tear drops onto the paper and I hurry to wipe it away, in fear it'll ruin the letter, do I snap out of it.

“Is everything okay?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“What’s wrong?” She shifts closer.

“I think I may like Ambrose…just a tiny bit.” A smile breaks through my tears. “... again.”

Chapter twenty-five

Valerie

The room is dead silent as Nat stares back at me.

“Yes, I know,” she says, before she bursts out laughing.

I furrow my brows. Where is the surprise? The shock? Even the horror? I expected so many emotions from her, but this reaction? Never saw it coming.

“What do you mean, you know?”

“Val, you have stars in your eyes whenever someone even mentions the Vitales, and I’m pretty sure it isn’t for Adriano, Augustus or Antonio,” she says. “Besides, I wouldn't be your best friend if I didn't know.”

---