I learnt a lot about Alexis, but also about myself. I hadn’t realised I was holding on to such resentment towards her. And although I had no right to, I couldn’t help the words spilling from my tongue. But she gave it back in kind, in the truest form she could.

It was complicated, messy—a downright trainwreck. But it was also pure. Of all the turbulent emotions running through me, one stood firm.

I was relieved.

We had finally initiated a conversation that was four years overdue, and we survived.

After that heavy exchange, the torrential downpour almost felt symbolic. That, alongside our tears, helped the storm cleanse away all our old grievances.

As I pulled up outside her parents’ house, Alexis didn’t move to leave, the rain secluding us in our own little place where the outside world didn’t exist. We were both caught in a spell, unwilling to break that new frequency we had found ourselves.

I let her company lull me as I spoke into the blank space.

“What are you thinking?”

She remained quiet, sorting through her thoughts before she answered. “I’m… sad,” she whispered. Her body was turned away from me, so it was barely loud enough to hear.

All the previous fight, all the fire that had been there before was nowhere to be seen. Instead, the woman next to me appeared exhausted and entirely drained.

“Talk to me, Lex,” I coaxed.

She sighed, then tipped her head back to hit the headrest. “She was my friend. She was supposed to be my friend. I’m the reason you went there in the first place. If I never asked you to go and help her, it never would have happened, and we wouldn’t have lost each other. Lost so much time…”

Her words tapered off on a subtle clearing of her throat, and I took advantage.

“Nope, we’re not playing this game. The ‘what if’ game. I know all too well where it leads, and it doesn’t end up anywhere productive.”

Then, she turned her head and gave me her true eyes. For the first time since she had left me, I was granted full access behind her impenetrable walls to see to her very soul beneath. And what I found practically totalled me to the ground.

Despair. Guilt. Sorrow.

The exact replica of myself when I knew I had lost it all.

“I’m sorry, Owen,” she said, so broken and so real. She aggressively rubbed her knuckles against her sternum. “Fuck, I’m sorry for putting you in that position. I’m sorry for what you endured. I’m sorry for what she did to you.”

“Did to us, baby.” My hand pulled on hers, wanting to stop the repetitive, bruising motion.