Desolate Love

Chapter 25: Unforgiven

Vaughn POV

The door closed behind me with a soft thud, but the weight of it didn't ease the tension in my chest. I leaned against the door, eyes closed, trying to gather the fragments of myself that seemed to be slipping through my fingers. Everything felt so disjointed, as if I were standing on the edge of something I couldn't quite comprehend.

Their words echoed in my mind—not leaving you again, give us a chance, we're here now. But there was no comfort in them. No solace. The past had taught me not to trust promises that came too easily, and I had no intention of making the same mistake again.

They weren't asking for my forgiveness, they said. No, what they wanted was something I didn't know how to give them. What could I possibly offer them now? The years of absence, of being pushed aside like I didn't matter, couldn't be erased by a few apologies or a soft tone in Alec's voice. The hurt was too deep. The wounds too raw.

I sucked in a breath, pushing away the gnawing feeling in my stomach—the one that told me maybe, just maybe, they had changed. I couldn't give into that. I couldn't let them in again, not after everything. They didn't deserve it, and I wasn't about to make myself vulnerable again.

I stood there for what felt like hours, the cold air biting at my skin, my heart heavy with confusion. I hadn't asked for this. I hadn't asked for them to waltz back into my life with their regret and promises. But there they were, still waiting, still standing at the threshold, watching me as if they could somehow fix everything.

I didn't want them to fix it. I wanted to be left alone with the bitterness that had become my constant companion. I wanted to hold onto my anger, my resentment, because that was easier than opening up the door to what they wanted now.

After what felt like an eternity, I turned around, my back against the door as I faced the room. Alec and Toby were still standing there, though neither had moved. Neither had forced me to do anything, and that just made everything harder. They were giving me the space to make a decision, but it wasn't a decision I was ready to make. Not yet.

"I don't need you to 'try,'" I finally said, my voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "You don't get to fix everything with a couple of meetings and a few apologies. You don't get to come back and act like nothing happened. Like the years didn't matter."

Alec opened his mouth to speak, but I held up a hand to stop him. "No. I'm not done yet."

I took a step toward them, but my legs felt heavy, like I was dragging something behind me. Every inch felt like a battle.

"I don't want to forgive you," I continued, my voice trembling now despite my best efforts to hold it together. "I don't want to feel like I have to make some big, life-changing decision right now. I just... I just need space. I need time to figure out what the hell I'm even feeling."

I looked at both of them, but neither spoke. Toby's expression was unreadable, though I could see the tightness in his jaw, the way his shoulders had squared. He wasn't angry, but he wasn't retreating either. He was just waiting. Waiting for me to come to him, waiting for me to make the first move.

I couldn't.

"I'm not going to pretend like this doesn't hurt," I said, my voice lower now, almost too soft. "I'm not going to pretend like I'm okay with any of this. You hurt me, both of you. You hurt me in ways I don't know how to fix, and I'm not just going to let it slide because you say you're sorry."

The words came out in a rush, a torrent of feelings I'd bottled up for so long, and I didn't know how to stop it. I had spent so much time pretending that I was fine, pretending that it didn't matter, but now the truth was spilling out, and it felt both freeing and terrifying.

Alec's face softened, but there was no pity in his eyes. He didn't look at me like I was fragile, like I couldn't handle the weight of my own emotions. He was just there. Present. And that was almost worse than anything else.

"You don't have to forgive us," he said quietly. "We don't expect that. But we're not going anywhere, Vaughn. We're here. For as long as you need us."

I swallowed hard, the words sticking in my throat. Here.

That was the problem, wasn't it? They had been here all along. When I needed them most, when I was drowning in the cruelty of the world, they had been *here* for each other, leaving me to suffer in the wake of their indifference. And now, they wanted to pretend like everything could just be fixed.

I shook my head slowly. "I don't know what I want from you," I admitted, though the words felt like a confession. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to look at you the way I used to. I can't just forget. And I can't just forgive you. Not yet."

Toby finally stepped forward, his eyes dark with something I couldn't name. Regret. Guilt. Hope. Maybe all of it, mingled together, a toxic cocktail of emotions that I didn't know how to swallow.

"I know," he said, his voice rough. "I know I don't deserve it. But I still want to try. I'm not asking you to forgive me today or tomorrow. I'm asking for the chance to prove that I'm not the same person I was."

I felt a sharp pang in my chest at his words, the vulnerability in his voice almost too much to bear. I hated the fact that I was still hearing it. That I could still feel the pull toward him, toward them, despite everything. The part of me that had loved them so deeply, so desperately, wasn't gone. It was still here, just buried beneath all the hurt.

But I couldn't let it show. I couldn't let them see how much it still affected me. How much I still wanted to believe that we could go back to what we had been. But that was impossible. Nothing would ever be the same.

"I don't know what I need from you," I repeated, louder this time. "But I know what I don't need, and that's this. I don't need you to pity me. I don't need you to beg me for something I'm not ready to give. I don't need anything from you."

I took a step back, the words hanging in the air like a finality I wasn't sure I was ready to make.

"Just leave me alone for a while," I said, my voice quiet, yet firm. "I need time. And when I'm ready, then we'll talk. But not now. Not yet."

Neither Alec nor Toby moved as I turned and walked toward the door, but I could feel their eyes on me, watching me leave. The silence in the room was thick with everything unsaid, and I wasn't sure when—if—things would ever feel right again.

As I stepped outside, I closed the door behind me, feeling the weight of it settle in my chest. I didn't forgive them. I wasn't ready to forgive them.

But part of me, deep down, still wanted to.

And that terrified me more than anything else.