Page 42 of Steamy on Set

Resignation takes hold of his face. “Now I say I’m sorry.” He steps a little closer.

Like a magnet with matching poles, I instantly step back.

“You aren’t, though.” I rest my hands on my hips. “You’re still defending your actions.”

“Look, I’m sorry I cheated. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I ever tried dating you in the first place.” His hands fall together in a pleading motion. “I’m sorry I broke the heart of my best friend and couldn’t be the one to help her mend it. I’m sorry for every single tear you ever cried over me. I’m sorry, Farrah.”

Having waited all this time to hear him say something along those lines, the words hit me in my ducts. I tilt my head back to keep the tears from coming.

“I am sorry,” he says again.

Pulling me into his arms, he strokes a hand down my head as he repeats the words over and over again. Like a mantra, they beat out the sound of repentance until they settle into my chest.

I stay in his arms, letting him hold me the way I’ve wanted him to for so long. Stroking me as all the sorrow bubbles up and pours down my face. One hand caresses my head, while the other wipes my tears. I cry until I am emptied out, left raw and wanting, unsure of what it’s going to take to fill me up again.

Looking into his eyes, I can see this conversation has not just hollowed me out with it’s requirements.

With a step out of his grasp, I wrap my arms around myself in comfort.

“What’s done is done.” We ease back on the couch, a sense of finality coming over me.

“All that is left to do is move on.”

“How?” he asks.

I look inside for the answer, searching through the rubble of my broken heart for the first two pieces to put back together. Clicking them into place, I turn and let him see the clarity that has come over me.

“I forgive you.”

“Farrah—” he starts.

“Not because I want you back, but because I don’t want any of this.” I lay a palm on my chest, pointing out the part of me that I’m slowly putting right. “I want to be happy, and I can’t do that if I am still mad at you.”

He nods, understanding clear in his eyes.

“So I forgive you, and it’s over.”

I will never know how things would have turned out if he gave us a chance. I will never know how we could have worked out if he just believed in himself. All I know is that one little fight and his self doubt was enough to blow us up.

We sit in silence for a few minutes. I’m lost in the sentiment of those words, trying to work out how best to apply them as a salve. When a calm rushes over me, I know I have found a way to start to patch myself up.

With nothing else left to say, we have come to an end. Was it any better or worse than the first one? I now know why he cheated. Why he threw our relationship away on one night. But it doesn’t change the outcome.

“What happens now?” he asks

“We heal.”

After a couple more minutes of silence, I walk him to the door, ready to let him go from my life.

Before he leaves, he looks down at me one more time.

“So this is goodbye then?”

His voice is hesitant, like he is scared of what I might say next. What I might do. I can’t help but think of all the memories we have. How all of them amounted to this wrecked relationship. There is no rectifying this, so that we can be in each others life. I feel like I’m losing him all over again.

I don’t want to say it, but I have to.

“This is goodbye.”

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