Painted in Fate

Chapter 16: Trust on the Edge

Babe stood at the window of his apartment, staring out at the city skyline as the afternoon light began to fade. The conversation with Billy lingered in his mind, a heavy cloud of emotions swirling just beneath the surface. He had wanted to forgive him, to let go of the past and start fresh, but the weight of everything that had happened still pressed down on him.

Could he really trust Billy again?

Every time he closed his eyes, fragments of memories from their past life flickered through his mind—images of destruction, of betrayal, of love lost in the flames. And yet, there was something about Billy's presence, something undeniable that kept pulling him back, even when part of him wanted to push Billy away.

Babe sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He wasn't sure what to do, but one thing was certain—he couldn't face this alone.

Later that evening, Babe found himself sitting on the couch, the remnants of an untouched dinner sitting cold on the coffee table. His mind kept replaying the conversation he'd had with Billy, the way Billy had looked at him—so full of guilt, so desperate to make things right. There had been sincerity in his eyes, but sincerity wasn't always enough to erase the past.

Babe's phone buzzed on the table, and he glanced at it, seeing Billy's name flash across the screen. His heart skipped a beat, but he hesitated before answering. Did he really want to talk to Billy right now? Did he want to keep opening up these old wounds?

After a moment of indecision, he picked up the phone and swiped to answer. "Hey."

"Babe," Billy's voice came through the line, low and cautious. "I wanted to check on you... I know we didn't exactly leave things resolved."

Babe leaned back against the couch, closing his eyes. "Yeah, I'm... I'm still trying to process everything."

"I get that," Billy replied, his tone soft but weighted. "I meant what I said. No more lies, no more secrets. I want to fix this, but I know I have to earn your trust again."

There was a long pause as Babe considered his response. "I don't know if I can just... forgive you. It's not that easy."

"I'm not asking for that. Not yet. I just want to be here for you—however you need me to be."

The sincerity in Billy's voice made something inside Babe stir, but there was still that nagging doubt. Trusting Billy again felt like walking a tightrope, one wrong step and everything would come crashing down.

"I'm not saying I don't want to try," Babe said finally. "But I can't just forget everything that happened. It's going to take time."

"I understand," Billy answered. "Take all the time you need. I'll be here."

The next day, Billy showed up at Babe's studio with two coffees in hand, his expression tentative but hopeful. "Thought you could use a little pick-me-up."

Babe raised an eyebrow but accepted the coffee. "Thanks."

Billy sat down on a stool near the canvas Babe was working on, his eyes drifting to the half-finished painting. "It's beautiful," he said softly, his gaze thoughtful. "You've always had such a talent."

Babe glanced at him, surprised by the compliment. "You've never really said anything about my art before."

"I guess I never took the time to appreciate it," Billy admitted. "But I want to now. I want to be a part of your world, Babe. Not just the parts that are easy, but the parts that matter."

Babe's heart fluttered at the sincerity in Billy's voice, but he quickly pushed the feeling down. He couldn't let himself be swayed so easily. "It's not just about saying the right things, Billy. It's about showing me you mean it."

Billy nodded, his expression serious. "I know. And I will. I'm going to prove to you that I can be the person you deserve."

As the day went on, the memories of their past lives continued to flicker in and out of Babe's mind, more vivid than ever. He saw glimpses of the life they had shared—moments of happiness, stolen kisses in secret, the warmth of Billy's hand in his. But alongside those memories were flashes of the pain, the betrayal, the moment Babe had looked up at Billy in his dying moments and seen the guilt in his eyes.

It was hard to reconcile those two versions of Billy—the one who had loved him so deeply and the one who had unknowingly caused his family's destruction. The emotions were overwhelming, and Babe found himself needing to step away from his painting just to catch his breath.

"Babe?" Billy's voice broke through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present.

Babe blinked, realizing he had been staring at the floor, lost in his own mind. "Sorry. Just... memories."

Billy's expression softened, and he stepped closer, his hand hovering just above Babe's arm. "I know this is hard. If I could take back what happened, I would. But I can't change the past. All I can do is be here for you now."

Just as the tension between them began to ease, there was a sudden knock on the door. Both Babe and Billy exchanged a glance, the lightheartedness of the moment evaporating as an unfamiliar sense of unease settled over the room.

"Who is it?" Babe asked, his voice a little more wary than usual.

Billy stood and made his way to the door, his muscles tensing as if preparing for something unexpected. He opened it cautiously, revealing a delivery man holding a small envelope.

"Delivery for Mr. Patchanon," the man said with a polite nod, handing the envelope to Billy.

Billy frowned as he accepted the envelope, and the man left without another word. There was no return address, no indication of where it had come from. Babe watched as Billy carefully tore it open, his eyes scanning the letter inside.

As Billy read, his expression darkened, and a cold chill swept through the room.

"What is it?" Babe asked, his heart beginning to race.

Billy's grip on the paper tightened. "It's from him. From my uncle."

Babe's stomach dropped. "What does it say?"

Billy's jaw clenched as he handed the letter to Babe. "He's not done with us. He's coming for you. For us."

The weight of the threat hung over them, but as the evening drew on, there was a quiet moment of calm between the two of them. Babe sat on the edge of the couch, staring out at the city lights, while Billy leaned against the wall, lost in thought.

After everything that had happened, after the revelation of the letter, it felt like they were standing on the edge of something dangerous—something they couldn't fully comprehend yet. But for now, they had each other.

Billy moved toward Babe, sitting beside him on the couch. For a moment, they just sat in silence, the world outside their window feeling distant and small.

"I'm scared," Babe admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Billy reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. "I am too. But I'm not going to let him hurt you. Not again."

Babe leaned his head against Billy's shoulder, his heart still heavy with doubt, but also with the faintest glimmer of hope. Maybe they weren't completely broken. Maybe there was still a chance for them to heal.

Together, they sat in the quiet, holding on to each other as they faced whatever was coming next.