bridges burned

Amy's path led to sorrow, but love found its way,

And in your arms, I knew I'd never stray.

Amy paced back and forth in her bedroom, her mind racing with plans. Her latest attempt to create tension between Paxton and Joanne had gone unnoticed—or so she thought. The whispers she'd started, the subtle comments she'd planted, hadn't yet produced the results she wanted. Every time she saw them together, smiling and at ease, it was like a sharp pang in her chest. Joanne had stepped into her life and disrupted everything. Paxton was supposed to value Amy's opinion above anyone else's. How could he not see the truth?

She sat down at her desk, glaring at her phone. The group chat she once ruled with her charm and wit now felt like a distant memory. The other ManiacOords had begun to favor Joanne, and even Emily—her younger sister—seemed distant. Amy hated the feeling, but she hated Joanne more for causing it.

What Amy didn't realize was that her tactics were starting to unravel, and the people around her were beginning to see the cracks.

Paxton leaned against the railing of Joanne's balcony, the city's lights twinkling in the distance. Joanne was inside, humming softly as she prepared coffee. He smiled at the sound, but his thoughts were troubled. Over the past few weeks, Amy's behavior had become increasingly erratic. She always seemed to have something negative to say about Joanne, and her remarks about Joanne's supposed intentions were starting to sound more like jealousy than concern.

Paxton's phone buzzed, and he glanced at it. A text from Amy.

We need to talk. Call me when you're free.

He sighed, tucking the phone back into his pocket. Conversations with Amy had become exhausting. She was still his best friend, and he cared deeply about her, but it was hard to ignore the nagging feeling that her actions weren't coming from a place of love or protection. Something was off, and he couldn't shake the thought that Amy's jealousy was poisoning their friendship.

Joanne stepped out onto the balcony, handing him a mug of coffee. "You okay?" she asked, her voice soft.

Paxton nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah. Just thinking."

Joanne gave him a skeptical look but didn't press. She had learned to give him space when he needed it, trusting that he would open up when he was ready.

Amy decided to up the ante. If subtle comments and rumors weren't working, maybe a more direct approach would. She cornered a mutual friend, Megan, at the campus café, sliding into the chair across from her with a bright smile.

"Hey, Megan," Amy began, leaning in conspiratorially. "Can I ask you something?"

Megan looked up from her notebook, wary. "Sure."

"Don't you think it's strange how fast Joanne and Paxton got close?" Amy asked, her tone dripping with feigned innocence. "I mean, I'm all for them being happy, but doesn't it seem like she's... I don't know, taking advantage of him?"

Megan frowned. "Taking advantage? Joanne's one of the nicest people I've met. She's always been kind to everyone."

Amy's smile faltered, but she quickly recovered. "I'm not saying she's not nice. It's just... well, she's been through a lot, you know? And sometimes people who've had tough pasts can be a little manipulative without meaning to."

Megan's expression hardened. "That's a pretty serious thing to say, Amy. If you're really worried about Paxton, you should talk to him, not spread stuff like this around."

Amy flushed, realizing her tactic wasn't working. "I'm just looking out for him," she mumbled.

But Megan wasn't convinced, and neither were the others Amy approached. Her words started to circle back to Paxton, and he began to see the pattern. It wasn't Joanne who was manipulating him—it was Amy.

The breaking point came one afternoon when Amy cornered Paxton in the student lounge. She had rehearsed her speech, determined to make him see reason.

"Pax," she began, her tone urgent, "we need to talk about Joanne."

Paxton sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Amy, we've talked about this. I don't want to keep having the same conversation."

"That's because you're not listening to me!" Amy snapped, her frustration bubbling over. "She's not who you think she is. She's using you, and you're too blinded by your feelings to see it."

Paxton stared at her, his jaw tightening. "And what makes you so sure, Amy? What proof do you have that Joanne's done anything wrong?"

Amy hesitated, her confidence wavering. "It's not about proof. It's about intuition. I've known you forever, Pax. I know when someone's not good for you."

"No," Paxton said firmly, his voice rising. "What you know is that you don't like someone else being close to me. You've been trying to tear Joanne down from the start, and for what? Because you're jealous?"

Amy's face turned red. "I'm not jealous! I'm trying to protect you!"

"Protect me from what?" Paxton shot back. "From being happy? From being with someone who actually cares about me? Because that's all Joanne's done—care about me. Meanwhile, you've been spreading rumors and stirring up drama."

Amy's eyes filled with tears, but Paxton didn't stop. "I love you, Amy. You're my best friend. But I can't keep defending you when you're the one causing all this pain. If you care about me, you need to stop."

After the confrontation, Paxton felt a mix of relief and sadness. Standing up to Amy was one of the hardest things he'd ever done, but it was necessary. He knew he couldn't move forward with Joanne if he didn't set clear boundaries.

Joanne noticed the change almost immediately. Paxton was more present, more attentive, and more open with her. She felt a renewed sense of security in their relationship, and she began to let her walls down even further.

One evening, as they sat in Joanne's living room, she turned to him with a shy smile. "You know, I wasn't sure we'd make it through all of this."

Paxton reached for her hand, his grip warm and steady. "I wasn't either," he admitted. "But I'm glad we did. You mean too much to me to let anyone come between us."

Joanne's heart swelled at his words. "I feel the same way."

Amy sat alone in her room, staring at her phone. She scrolled through her messages, her fingers hovering over Paxton's name. She wanted to apologize, but she didn't know how. Her attempts to protect him had backfired, and now she was the one who felt isolated.

She thought about all the moments she and Paxton had shared over the years, the laughter and the tears. Losing him felt like losing a part of herself, and it was a pain she hadn't expected.

As much as she hated to admit it, Amy realized that her actions had been driven by her own insecurities. Joanne hadn't taken Paxton away—Amy had pushed him away with her behavior.

Tears slid down her cheeks as she finally acknowledged the truth. If she wanted to salvage her friendship with Paxton, she would have to change. But whether or not he would forgive her was another matter entirely.

While Amy grappled with her guilt, Paxton and Joanne continued to build their relationship. They faced challenges together, leaning on each other for support. Emily became a trusted confidante for both of them, offering advice and encouragement whenever they needed it.

The road ahead wasn't easy, but Joanne and Paxton were committed to making it work. They knew they couldn't control what others thought or said, but they could control how they responded to it. And as long as they had each other, they knew they could face anything.

For Amy, the journey to redemption was just beginning. But for Joanne and Paxton, the storm had passed, and they were finally able to enjoy the calm. Together, they were stronger than ever, and no one—not even Amy—could take that away from them.