Desolate Love

Chapter 24: Shattered Illusions

Vaughn POV

The room felt heavy with silence after my outburst. I could feel the air thick with all the things I had said and all the things I hadn't yet said, the weight of the past pressing in on me. It was like standing at the edge of a cliff, looking down at the shattered pieces of my own heart, wondering if I could ever find the strength to climb back up again.

Alec and Toby were standing a few feet away, their presence a reminder of everything that had once been broken between us. I didn't turn to face them right away. I couldn't. I needed a moment to breathe, to collect myself, because if I looked at them now, I might shatter too.

"I can't just forgive you," I said, the words coming out quietly, almost like a confession. I wasn't even sure I believed it myself. I just needed to say something to give myself some space, to make sense of what had happened.

The silence stretched on, longer than I expected, and I didn't dare to turn around. I wasn't ready to look them in the eye—not yet.

"I don't expect you to forgive us," Alec's voice broke through the stillness, soft, but with the kind of sincerity I hadn't heard from him in years. "I just want you to know that we're not going anywhere."

I could feel the weight of his words, but I couldn't allow myself to feel the full impact of them. Not yet. Not when everything still felt so fragile, so raw.

I took a slow, steady breath before finally turning around. They were still standing there, but this time, they didn't look like the Alec and Toby I remembered—the ones who had brushed me aside without a second thought. They were different. Their eyes held something I couldn't quite name, but I didn't want to look too closely.

I had been down this road before, and I couldn't allow myself to believe that they would somehow make it right. They were the ones who had broken me. I couldn't forget that, no matter how much they seemed to regret it now.

"You've had your chance," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, the words slipping out before I could stop them. "You had your chance, and you chose each other. You left me behind, knowing what it would do to me. I don't know if I can just pick up where we left off."

Toby's eyes softened, but he didn't speak. There was nothing left to say, not in the way they had before. I could see it in his face. He wasn't trying to justify the past. He wasn't making excuses. He wasn't offering empty apologies.

"I know," Alec said quietly. "We don't expect you to forget what happened. But we are here now. And we'll be here for as long as it takes."

My chest tightened at his words. They sounded so final. So... real. But they also felt like a weight, an expectation that I wasn't sure I could carry. I wasn't sure I was ready to let anyone back in.

Toby took a small step forward, his gaze still soft, but there was a vulnerability in his expression now that I wasn't used to. "I know we can't fix this. We can't change what we did. But I want you to know, Vaughn... I'm sorry. And I mean it. I'm sorry for how we treated you."

"I know," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I didn't look at him, didn't want to see the regret in his eyes. I didn't want to let it in. It was too much. It was too *close* to what I had once wanted—what I had once dreamed for us. And that was the part that hurt the most.

"Do you know what it was like?" I asked, my voice breaking despite myself. "What it was like to watch you two together, to know that you knew what I felt, and still... still walk away from me?"

The room felt heavier again. I could see the way they looked at each other—like they had both been carrying this burden for years, but neither of them could fix it. And that was the thing. They couldn't fix it. They couldn't undo what had already been done.

Alec stepped forward, his voice soft but steady. "I don't expect you to understand. Not yet. But I need you to know that I regret it. I regret leaving you behind more than anything."

I closed my eyes, the weight of his words hitting me harder than I expected. I felt the anger surge again, bubbling up from somewhere deep inside. But this time, I didn't push it down. I let it fill me. I let it wash over me because it felt like the only thing that would stop the ache, the only thing that could drown out all the memories that threatened to choke me.

"I don't know if I can forgive you," I said, my voice trembling now. "I don't know if I want to. What you did... it broke me. And I don't know how to even begin putting the pieces back together."

Toby's face tightened with something like guilt, but he didn't flinch. He didn't step back. "I don't expect you to forgive us. I don't expect you to just forget. But I'm asking you to try. That's all I'm asking for. A chance to show you that we're not the same people we were."

I looked at both of them, their faces—so familiar, yet so different now. They weren't the same people. They had changed. But I had changed too. And I didn't know if I was ready to face whatever this change was.

"Maybe someday," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "Maybe someday, I'll be ready to try. But not now. Not yet."

I turned away from them, needing space, needing distance, because if I didn't pull away now, I was afraid I would shatter. I had already given them so much. I had already let them see parts of me I had promised myself I would protect.

But they weren't going anywhere, they said. They were here. And that, somehow, was even more terrifying than the years they had spent away from me. Because now, I had to face them—not as the people who had abandoned me, but as something... more. Something I wasn't sure I was ready to face.

And yet, even as I turned my back on them, I knew deep down that part of me was still reaching for them, still wondering if there was a way back from the brokenness.

I didn't know if I could ever forgive them, or if I wanted to. But maybe—just maybe—I could let them try.