FINDING 12 | BOYS OF TOMMEN

'Changed'

January 12ᵗʰ 2002

"I've changed, I'm in anger management now," Connor said, his voice low and steady as he sat on my bed. His eyes were wide and pleading, the first time I'd ever seen him look so vulnerable. Usually, he stormed off after a fight, leaving me to pick up the pieces. But now, he was here, in my room, trying to get me back.

I crossed my arms, leaning against the dresser to keep some distance. "What if that's a lie?" I asked, hating the way my voice trembled. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of thinking I still cared, even though a part of me did.

"It's not a lie, I swear!" Connor groaned, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I'm doing anger management, I'm working on myself. For you, Blair. I've changed."

I swallowed, my eyes narrowing as I tried to read his face. "This is the first time you've come back like this, Connor. You've never apologized, never tried to fix anything before. Why now?"

He sighed, dropping his head into his hands. "Because I screwed up, alright? I know I did. I just... I didn't realize how much I needed you until I lost you."

His words tugged at something deep inside me, the part that hated losing people. The part that always made excuses for others, always wanted to believe that they could change. But I couldn't ignore the way he'd treated me—how he made me feel small, like I was the one in the wrong for wanting to be myself.

"I don't know if I can trust you," I said softly, shaking my head. "You called me a slut, Connor. You made me feel worthless."

He stood up then, crossing the room to close the space between us. His hands gently grabbed mine, his touch light but insistent. "I didn't mean it. I was angry, I wasn't thinking straight. I didn't mean a word of it."

I looked away, trying to hold onto my resolve. But his voice, his closeness, was pulling me in, making me doubt myself. "You always say you're sorry after the fact, but that doesn't change how it felt."

"I get that," he said, his grip tightening just a little. "But you have to understand,Blair, I was going through a lot. It wasn't you, it was me. I've got issues, I know that. That's why I'm getting help now. I'm trying to be better, for you."

I hated the way his words made me feel. Like it was my responsibility to fix him. Like I should feel guilty for even thinking of walking away.

"And what if it happens again?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "What if you lose your temper and say something worse?"

"I won't," he said quickly, almost desperately. "I'm working on it, Blair. I swear. You just have to give me another chance. I love you, you know that, right? I didn't mean to hurt you."

My heart twisted. I didn't want to lose him, but I also didn't want to keep getting hurt. And yet, here he was, telling me everything I wanted to hear, making me feel like maybe I was the one who needed to give him another shot.

"You always make me feel like it's my fault," I muttered, more to myself than to him.

He lifted my chin gently, forcing me to look at him. "No, babe, it's not your fault. It never was. I was the one who messed up. I know that now. Please... just give me one more chance. I'm changing, I swear."

The guilt was creeping in, making it hard to breathe. He sounded so sincere, like he was really trying, and the thought of losing him for good made my chest tighten. Maybe I was overreacting. Maybe he really had changed.

"I hate losing people," I whispered, my resolve crumbling.

"You don't have to lose me," Connor said, his voice soft, coaxing. "We can fix this. I promise, things will be different."

________________________

"Why the fuck are you back with that eejit!" Eloise exclaimed, her voice echoing in the small kitchen as she shot me a disbelieving look from across the table.

Her dad, Darragh, was by the stove, flipping bacon in the pan, while her mam, Catherine, was off to the side, ironing clothes. They didn't say anything, but I could tell by the tension in the room they were listening.

"Because... he's changed," I mumbled, avoiding Eloise's sharp gaze as I stared at the kitchen table. I could feel her eyes on me, judging, and it made my skin crawl with discomfort.

"Changed?" she repeated, incredulous. "Bee, are you listening to yourself? The last time you two talked, he called you a slut! How does someone just 'change' after that?"

"I know, I know!" I snapped, frustrated more with myself than her. "But he's in anger management now. He's working on his issues."

Eloise's dad, Darragh, quietly dropped two plates of bacon sarnies on the table, shooting a concerned glance between the two of us. Catherine kept ironing, but I could tell she was listening to every word.

Eloise scoffed and shook her head, grabbing her sandwich like she needed something to do with her hands. "Anger management? And you're just gonna believe him, just like that?"

"It's not like I'm just taking his word for it," I argued, though it felt weak. "He's actually trying, El. He's been going to therapy, he's doing the work."

"That's what he told you. Doesn't mean it's true," she shot back. "How do you know he's not just saying all the right things to get you back?"

"Because he sounded different this time," I said, my voice softening as I defended him. "It wasn't like before when he'd just brush things off. He sat down and actually apologized. He told me he knows he messed up, and he's trying to be better."

Eloise stared at me like she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Bee, just because he says he's sorry doesn't erase all the shit he's done. You deserve better than someone who has to fix themselves after treating you like garbage."

I took a bite of my sandwich, more to avoid speaking than because I was hungry. "I hate losing people, El," I finally admitted, voice quieter than before. "I don't want to throw away everything we had if he's really changed."

Eloise sighed deeply, putting her sandwich down. "You're not throwing anything away. He threw it away the second he made you feel like crap. And now he's manipulating you into thinking he's better, just so you'll stick around."

"No, he's not," I insisted, though even as I said it, doubt started creeping into my mind. "He wouldn't... He knows he has to change if we're going to work."

Eloise narrowed her eyes, clearly unconvinced. "How many times has he said that already?"

"It's the first time," I muttered, staring at my plate. "He's never tried to get me back like this before."

"And what if it's the last time?" Eloise said, her voice softer now, like she was trying to get through to me. "What if this time it's worse?"

I didn't answer, just sat there, pushing my sandwich around the plate.