Shadows of Revenge

35. Breaking the Silence

Becky sat on the cold floor of her apartment, her body still trembling from the intensity of her tears. She had cried herself into exhaustion, her chest aching from the release. Her mind was in a fog, the emptiness inside her so deep it felt like she was sinking. She hadn’t spoken a word in over a year, and in that moment, she felt more alone than ever. But the weight of it all, the crushing loneliness and guilt, was suddenly interrupted by something she hadn’t expected.

A touch.

At first, Becky thought it was just another hallucination—a cruel trick her mind played on her during nights like these when she longed for comfort. But this touch was warm, real, and followed by a whisper so soft yet powerful that it sent a shiver down her spine.

“I’m sorry, Becky,” the voice said, barely above a whisper, but unmistakable.

Becky’s body froze. Her breath hitched in her throat, her heart pounding so loudly in her ears that it drowned out everything else. It couldn’t be real. It wasn’t possible. She’d imagined this moment a thousand times in her dreams, only to wake up to the cruel reality that Freen wasn’t there.

But this time, the warmth didn’t disappear. The arms wrapped around her from behind felt too real. Slowly, Becky turned, her movements shaky, terrified that if she turned too fast, the illusion would shatter, and she’d be alone again. But when she turned, she wasn’t alone.

Freen was there. Her Freen.

Becky’s eyes widened, disbelief washing over her like a tidal wave. She blinked, unable to trust her own senses. Was it another cruel dream? No… it couldn’t be. Freen was here, kneeling in front of her, her eyes filled with tears, her face twisted with emotion. She looked real, more real than Becky had ever imagined in her dreams.

Freen reached up, her hand trembling as she brushed a strand of hair away from Becky’s face. The touch sent electricity through Becky’s body, grounding her in the moment. This wasn’t a dream. Freen’s fingers were soft, gentle as they wiped the tears from Becky’s cheeks.

“I’m truly sorry, Becky,” Freen’s voice broke as she spoke, her own emotions barely held together. “I’m sorry for making you feel like this. For leaving you like this. Please forgive me. I just... I love you, and I can’t hide it anymore.”

Becky’s world stopped. The words she had longed to hear, the words she had begged for in her silent prayers, were finally spoken, but she couldn’t respond. Her throat tightened, and her mind raced. Was this really happening? Was Freen really here, confessing her love after all this time?

Her heart ached with a mixture of longing and disbelief. Freen’s presence, her touch, the raw emotion in her voice—it was everything Becky had dreamed of, but she didn’t know how to process it. After a year of silence, after burying herself in isolation, Becky didn’t know how to respond. Her body trembled as Freen’s confession hung in the air, her words like a balm to the wounds Becky had carried for so long.

Freen’s eyes searched hers, desperate for a reaction, for a sign that Becky had heard her, that she understood. But Becky… Becky couldn’t find the words. She tried to speak, but her throat felt like it was closing up. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. The silence, once her refuge, now felt like a prison.

Becky’s heart screamed, but her voice refused to follow. She wanted to tell Freen everything—to tell her how much she had missed her, how much she still loved her. She wanted to tell Freen that she forgave her, that she had never stopped loving her, not for a second. But the words wouldn’t come.

Her lips quivered, and tears welled up in her eyes again, spilling over as she stared at Freen, who was still waiting, still hoping. Freen’s hand never left her face, her thumb gently stroking Becky’s cheek, as if willing her to say something, anything.

Becky’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions—relief, love, fear, disbelief. How could this be real? How could Freen be here, saying the things Becky had waited so long to hear? Her heart pounded in her chest, louder and louder, drowning out the sound of her own thoughts. But still… her voice remained locked inside her.

Freen’s face began to falter, her eyes clouding with worry. She could see the struggle in Becky’s eyes, the pain behind her silence. She knew what this meant. Becky had been silent for so long that she had forgotten how to speak, how to express herself. And now, after all this time, Freen was afraid she had caused more damage than she could fix.

Tears slipped down Freen’s cheeks as she leaned forward, pressing her forehead against Becky’s. “It’s okay,” Freen whispered, her voice breaking with emotion. “You don’t have to say anything, Becky. I know… I know how much I hurt you. But I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”

Becky closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of Freen’s breath against her skin. It was real. This was real. Freen was here, holding her, comforting her. And for the first time in so long, Becky allowed herself to believe it. She allowed herself to feel the love that had never truly left her heart. Her tears mixed with Freen’s as they both knelt there, tangled in each other’s pain, forgiveness, and love.

In that moment, Becky didn’t need words. She leaned forward, resting her head against Freen’s shoulder, letting the tears flow. Freen wrapped her arms around her, holding her tightly, as if she could take away all the hurt, all the loneliness that had plagued Becky for so long.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Becky felt something more than pain.

She felt loved.

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