Chapter 43 Broken Friendships Mended
Broken Friendships Mended
Keaton
Cheating on Charlie didn’t just wreck what we had.
It shattered my friendship with Amelia, too.
She was my ride-or-die, and I torched that trust the moment I betrayed Charlie.
Since then, our conversations have been rare, mostly consisting of her verbally tearing me apart for what I did.
Amelia tried to hide her pain, but every now and then, when she was letting me have it, I’d catch a flicker of hurt in her eyes.
I asked Charlie last night if she thought Amelia would be open to hearing me out, and she gave me a soft smile that seems to come easier to her now.
She laid her hand over mine on the table and told me that Amelia has actually been an advocate for me lately.
That news choked me up because I never expected to gain forgiveness from her.
I’ve witnessed the grudges she holds, and they’re mean as fuck.
All day, I’ve been psyching myself up to call her, hoping she’ll agree to meet. An apology like this can’t be phoned in. It needs to be face-to-face, or it won’t mean a thing.
Leaning on the counter, I glare at my phone, willing myself to quit stalling. It’s not like it’d be the first time Mel busted my balls, but man, she’s scary as hell when she’s pissed.
Leaning on the counter, I glare at my phone, willing myself to quit stalling.
“Stop being a little bitch,” I mumble, lifting my phone with a sigh.
Before I can chicken the fuck out again, I pull up her contact and jab the call button.
My fingers tap a nervous rhythm on the marble as the phone rings, each echo bouncing around my empty apartment.
“Oh, look. The little weeny wagon has finally chosen to call me,” Amelia drawls when she answers.
I shake my head, a laugh slipping out. Classic Amelia. “Sorry it took me so long to call.”
Amelia blows out a breath. “What do you want, Keaton?”
“Do you have time to meet with me?”
She snorts. “Why the hell would I do that?”
“Because Charlie’s not the only one I owe an apology to.” She grumbles, but I press on. “I hurt you when I cheated on Charlie, and I know it.”
Silence stretches so long I check my phone to see if we’re still connected. Just as I’m about to tell her to take her time, she lets out a low, reluctant growl.
“Fine. We can meet at Grinders. Two o’clock. Don’t be late, ass pucker.”
“Ass pucker?” I mutter, smirking as I toss my phone onto the counter.
A sharp meow sounds at my feet as Jinx weaves around my ankles.
I scoop her up, tucking her against my chest. She purrs like a tiny engine, nuzzling my shirt and demanding attention.
I laugh, ruffling her fur. “You’re a needy one, huh? What do you think, Jinx? Am I about to get my ass handed to me?”
Jinx meows again and swats at my face playfully.
“You’re right. Mel’s probably going to wreck my feelings. I deserve it.” Jinx squirms as I lift her to eye level. “Never forget what matters most, Jinx. Losing sight of it can destroy everything.”
She trots off when I set her down, only to race back the second she hears kibble clattering into her bowl.
There’s no telling how this meeting with Amelia will play out. Mel’s always been wild, unpredictable, and brutally honest. She’s never bothered with a filter, not once.
I just hope she can feel how genuine my apology is. She doesn’t owe me forgiveness, and I know that, but I can’t help wishing she’ll give it anyway.
With an hour to kill before meeting Amelia, I grab a water, my sketchbook, and my phone, then head out to the patio.
Before I start sketching the tattoo idea swirling in my head, I fire off a quick text to Charlie.
Keaton:
Hey, my beautiful butterfly. I hope you’re having a great day. Can’t wait to see you soon.
I set my alarm for thirty minutes, dim my screen, and reach for my sketch pad and charcoal pencils.
There’s a blank stretch of skin on my side, waiting for something new.
Ever since I wrecked things with Charlie, I’ve become obsessed with butterflies.
Most are hidden under my shirt, but if she looked closely, she’d spot the ones on my arms, legs, and neck.
Some are vivid and bright, others dark and gothic.
A few have broken wings, mid-flight, simple reminders of how I shattered my own butterfly.
Time slips by as I sketch, blend, and shade, breathing life into the vision in my mind. Butterflies burst through torn skin, snakes coiling around them, their bodies half-hidden beneath the surface.
Sometimes the darkness inside us chases the light, trying to snuff it out.
Capturing that feeling in this piece is harder than I thought. Even as it nears completion, it doesn’t feel right.
By the time my alarm blares, charcoal stains my fingers and smudges my jeans.
Fuck.
There’s always a mess when I finish sketching. Art is my escape, my lifeline when I’m drowning. It’s saved me more times than I can count. My room is packed with sketchbooks filled with drawings of Charlie. If anyone ever found them, they’d probably think I was obsessed.
I toss my sketchbook and pencils onto the counter, wash the charcoal from my hands, grab my keys, and head out.
Time to face the other person I let down.
***
The smell of pastries and coffee beans swirls around me as I walk into Grinders. That scent always reminds me of Charlie. She spends so much time here, it’s practically part of her now.
Amelia sits at the bar, a plate of fries and a club sandwich in front of her.
Charlie’s expansions to Grinders have paid off. The café and bookshop buzz with life every time I stop by.
I can’t help but feel proud watching Charlie bounce from table to table, grinning as she chats with customers.
She’s completely in her element here. For all the dreams we shared, this is where she truly belongs, surrounded by coffee, books, and good food.
If we’d opened a tattoo shop together, something vital would have been missing for her.
She really is incredible.
Charlie spots me as I climb onto the empty stool beside Amelia and heads our way.
“Hey there, dragon boy,” Charlie chirps, leaning across the counter to get closer to me.
I smile and lift to meet her the rest of the way. Our lips brush lightly, a gentle caress that fills me with warmth.
“Hey there, beautiful.”
“Do you want something to eat?”
“Can I get a water and a plate of cheese fries?”
“Got you. Can you two do me a favor? Try not to make a bloody mess in my place.”
Amelia snatches a fry from her plate and chomps down on it with a shark-like smile. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”
Charlie glances between us before smiling at me with a shrug. “You’re on your own. Sorry, not sorry.”
Silence settles between Amelia and me as Charlie walks away.
“She looks happy,” I murmur.
“No thanks to you,” Amelia snaps.
“I know. That’s all Charlie. She pulled herself out of the darkness and found her light again.”
“You make it sound like it was easy for her, Keaton.”
I shake my head. “No—”
Amelia cuts me off before I can finish what I was saying. “Stop. I know you want to run this, but I’ve got some things to say. I hated you for hurting me.”
Her words tighten my throat. I knew they were coming, but they still sting.
“We were best friends, and you broke that bond when you cheated on Charlie. But I hated you more for the absolute way you obliterated her. Did you know I had to move in with her for a bit to ensure she kept breathing every night?”
I shake my head, my fists clenching on my thigh to hide their tremors. “I didn’t know it was that bad.”
“Of course you didn’t. Do you really believe she would have trusted you enough to let you know how bad she’d gotten?
Even her parents didn’t know. Hell, Alek either.
I was the only one she trusted with the shattered parts of her.
And let me tell you something, that was not fun.
It’s something I never want to do or see her go through again.
Look, man. I acknowledge your changes. The love you have for Charlie is written all over you.
Your remorse is palpable. But, Keaton, it doesn’t mean I can forget.
I had to keep her head above water too many times over the last two years. ”
Her voice trembles, betraying just how much she saw and felt.
The stool swivels with me as I turn toward her.
“Saying sorry is never going to be enough. Words are too simple for what I did. What they are is a start. I’m sorry, Amelia.
For cheating on Charlie and hurting her so deeply that she’ll always carry the scars from it.
I’m sorry for hurting you and breaking the bonds of our friendship.
It was always the three of us against the world.
For years, our friendship was unbreakable. ”
“And then you let someone else in.”
The flat words make me flinch, but I won’t deny them. “And then I let someone else in.”
We pause our conversation when Charlie stops by to drop off my fries and water. She places her elbows on the countertop, cups her palms, and rests her chin in them as she peers at us.
“You all good? Need a breather? I don’t see any blood drawn yet.”
The concern in her voice warms me. Her nose scrunches as I run my finger along it.
“We’re good, beautiful. Just talking.”
“Okay. Well, I’ll leave you to it then.”
She gives us a smile before heading through the swinging doors to the back.
Amelia sighs. “As much as I don’t want to forgive you, Keaton, I do. Holding onto my anger towards you is only going to hurt Charlie because she’ll eventually feel she’ll have to choose between us. I’ll always remember what you did, though, and how easy it was for you do it to her.”
“Fair enough.” The aroma of hot cheddar cheese sauce and fries has my mouth watering as I lift a fry to it.
“I never expected your forgiveness, Mel. Just knew I owed you an apology. I should have given it to you before now, but I wasn’t in the headspace to focus on myself, Charlie, and anyone else. ”
“That’s a good thing because I wouldn’t have forgiven you before now, anyway.”
Our conversation fades as we eat.
Something’s changed in Amelia. The fire she’s always had is still there, but it’s dimmer now, like someone tried to snuff it out. It still simmers beneath the surface, but now there’s a bitterness clinging to its edges.
I haven’t spent much time with David lately. We’re not on the same wavelength anymore. Last I heard, he and Amelia had something going on, but Charlie never brings them up, and I’m too afraid to ask. I don’t want to hear it’s not my business anymore.
“You doing okay, Mel?”
My quiet question snaps her out of her thoughts, and for a split second, I see the pain she tries to hide. She covers it quickly with a practiced, plastic smile.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
I shake my head, pop another fry in my mouth, and wash it down with water. “I’m here if you need anything.”
Amelia studies me, and I focus on my fries, giving her space to find whatever she’s looking for.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she says gruffly.
Surprisingly, we manage to talk without the past poisoning every word.
It’s not deep, not even close to what we had before I screwed everything up.
But it’s a start. A shaky first step toward rebuilding the friendship I broke.