You sat quietly on the park bench, the weight of the past weeks pressing heavily on your shoulders. The spring air, crisp and cool, offered little comfort as you replayed the events in your mind. It had been a tumultuous time since everything fell apart, since Josh had kicked you out, his harsh words still echoing in your ears. You had lied, stolen the painting, and shattered his trust.

You hadn’t expected to see him again. But there he was, walking towards you, his expression a mixture of determination and regret. You watched as he approached, each step deliberate, and your heart pounded in your chest. You didn’t know what to expect—more accusations, more anger? You braced yourself.

“Hey,” he said, his voice softer than you remembered. He stopped a few feet away, giving you space but making it clear he wanted to talk.

The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken words.

Josh took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened,” he began. “About the things I said, the way I acted. I wasn’t fair to you.”

You looked at him, trying to gauge his sincerity. His eyes, usually so intense, were now filled with an unfamiliar gentleness. “I lied to you, Josh,” you said quietly. “I stole from you. You had every right to be angry.”

“Maybe,” he conceded, “but that doesn’t excuse my reaction. I let my emotions get the best of me. I said horrible things, things I didn’t mean. I was hurt, but that doesn’t justify hurting you in return.”

You looked down at your hands, the guilt you’d been carrying resurfacing. “I didn’t know what else to do,” you admitted. “I felt cornered, and I made a terrible choice. I’ve regretted it every day since.”

He stepped closer, his voice earnest. “I know trust isn’t something that can be easily repaired, especially after what happened. But I want to try. I want to make amends for the way I treated you. Kicking you out, the things I said… I’m so sorry.”