healing wounds

Amy tried to pull us apart, but we stood firm,

In your love, Joanne, I found my term.

The sun dipped low in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue over the quiet campus. The once chaotic air had calmed, leaving behind the lingering tension between Paxton and his sister, Amy. Paxton sat on the stone bench near the old oak tree—the same spot where he and Joanne had shared countless conversations—his thoughts tangled in the web of recent events. The cool breeze did little to ease his restless mind.

Footsteps crunched over the fallen leaves, approaching slowly. Paxton didn't have to look up to know who it was.

"Paxton."

Amy's voice was softer than usual, devoid of her usual sharpness. She stood a few feet away, arms crossed not in defiance but in uncertainty. Her eyes lacked the spark of defiance that had fueled her manipulations. Instead, they held something foreign—remorse.

Paxton sighed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "What do you want, Amy?"

She hesitated, biting her lip. "To talk."

He finally met her gaze, his expression unreadable. "About what? How you nearly destroyed my relationship with Joanne? Or how you made me question the people I care about?"

Amy winced at his bluntness but knew she deserved it. She slowly sat on the opposite end of the bench, keeping distance yet close enough to speak.

"I didn't come here to defend myself," she started, voice barely above a whisper. "I came to... apologize. I know that probably doesn't mean much right now."

Paxton studied her. The walls she had so carefully built seemed to crumble, leaving behind his sister—flawed and vulnerable. "Why, Amy? Why did you do it?"

She exhaled shakily, staring at her hands. "I felt… replaced. You used to tell me everything. We were close. And then Joanne came along, and suddenly, I wasn't enough. I told myself I was protecting you, but the truth is, I was jealous. And I hated myself for it."

Paxton leaned back, letting her words sink in. For years, Amy had been his closest confidant, but somewhere along the line, things had shifted. He shook his head. "Amy, it was never about replacing you. I still needed you. But you made it impossible to trust you. You lied, manipulated, and turned people against Joanne. Against me."

Tears welled up in Amy's eyes, though she quickly blinked them away. "I know. I know I can't undo any of that. I—I don't expect things to go back to how they were. But I need you to know that I regret it. Every bit of it."

Silence stretched between them.

Finally, Paxton spoke, his tone softer. "It's not that simple, Amy. You can't just say sorry and expect me to forget. Trust—it doesn't come back overnight."

She nodded slowly. "I don't expect forgiveness. But I hope… maybe one day, you'll let me try to make it right."

Paxton was quiet for a long moment. Then he sighed. "I can't promise anything. But... I'm willing to give you a chance. One chance. But understand this—Joanne comes first. If you can't accept that, there's nothing left to talk about."

Amy swallowed hard, nodding. "I understand. And for what it's worth, I—I want you to be happy. Even if it hurts."

The raw honesty in her voice surprised him. Paxton glanced away, eyes tracing the horizon. "We'll see. But it's going to take time. A lot of it."

Amy gave a small, sad smile. "Time's all I have."

They sat there in silence, the distance between them still wide, but for the first time in a long while, not insurmountable.

Later that evening, Paxton found Joanne by the campus fountain, her fingers skimming the cool water absentmindedly. She looked up as he approached, her eyes cautious.

"Hey," he greeted softly.

Joanne tilted her head, watching him carefully. "Hey. Everything okay?"

Paxton hesitated. "I talked to Amy. She... apologized."

Joanne's brows lifted slightly. "And you believe her?"

He exhaled. "I don't know. But I told her I'd give her a chance. Just one. But I made it clear—you're my priority now."

Joanne searched his face for any sign of doubt but found none. Slowly, her guarded expression softened. "Thank you. That means more than you know."

Paxton reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together. "I'm sorry it took me this long."

Joanne squeezed his hand gently. "We're here now. That's what matters."

They stood in quiet understanding, the rippling water reflecting the glow of the campus lights. And though shadows of the past lingered, they both knew they were finally moving forward—together.