“ Forgiveness sets you free, so forgive. ”
---
— Cecile —
I didn’t realize how flushed my face looked until I stepped into my room, closing the door behind me with a soft click. My cheeks were burning, and my heart still raced from the events of the day.
“Someone sure looks like she got laid,” came Bernie’s blunt, teasing voice.
I turned sharply to find her sprawled on my bed, her mischievous grin practically glowing.
“Bernie!” I grabbed the nearest pillow and launched it at her. “You’re impossible!”
She laughed, evading my weak attempt to hit her. “What? Am I wrong?” Her grin widened.
“Yes! No! You—ugh!” I hit her again, this time with more force, and she tried to block my blows, but I didn’t relent. “It’s all your fault! I almost got laid because of your stupid suggestion!”
“Okay, okay, stop! I’m sorry!” she gasped between bursts of laughter, but I kept hitting her until the pillow slipped from my hands, and my emotions took over.
I crumbled, tears falling uncontrollably.
“Hey, hey. Cec, I’m sorry.” Her voice softened, and she wrapped her arms tightly around me. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not.” My voice cracked as the tears poured. “I can’t believe… I almost…” I couldn’t finish the sentence, the shame and disbelief choking me.
Bernie held me, her hand rubbing slow circles on my back. “It’s okay, Cec. You didn’t do anything. You stopped.”
But that didn’t ease the guilt.
---
Later, as we sat on my bed, the weight of the day settled over me like a thick fog. “I made a promise,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “To myself and my sister. I promised I’d wait until marriage. And today… I almost broke that promise.”
Bernie was silent for a moment before she spoke. “Cec, you didn’t. That matters. It’s okay to slip, to falter. You’re human.”
I shook my head. “It’s not about that. It’s about how close I came. I should’ve been stronger.”
She hesitated before adding, “He must really care about you, you know. To stop like that… It says a lot.”
Her words struck a chord. I nodded, knowing she was right. Joel had stopped. He respected me. But…
“He didn’t tell me he loved me,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
Bernie placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Maybe he didn’t get the chance. Maybe he’s waiting for the right moment.”
I scoffed, my voice tinged with bitterness. “Why do you sound like you’re on his side?”
“Because,” she said firmly, “you’re probably going to marry him someday. I might as well start liking the guy now.”
I blinked at her, stunned by her confidence. “We’re not even dating.”
“Yet.” She grinned knowingly. “After today, do you really think you’ll find anyone else as interesting as him?”
I opened my mouth to argue, but nothing came out. Deep down, I knew she was right.
---
In the shower, I replayed the day over and over again, unable to escape the memory of his touch, his kisses, the way his presence made me feel so alive and yet so vulnerable.
“You’re losing it, Cec,” I muttered to myself, shaking my head under the water. But the truth was undeniable.
He hadn’t said he loved me. And what if he didn’t?
---
— Joel —
When I finally arrived home, I sat in my car for several long moments, staring at the empty driveway. The silence was deafening, and a sudden wave of loneliness washed over me.
Why now? Why hadn’t I felt this before?
I stepped into the house and headed straight for the wine cellar. Grabbing a bottle of my favorite red, I poured myself a generous glass and sank into the couch.
A magazine lay discarded on the coffee table, its bold headline catching my eye: Pregnancy and Childbirth.
I stared at it, the words blurring as the memory of the day came rushing back.
Cecile.
Her name echoed in my mind, her face, her laughter, the way her lips had felt against mine. We’d almost crossed a line—a line I wasn’t prepared for, and neither was she.
What if we had? What if she’d been fertile? What if…
I shook my head, frustration bubbling to the surface. “You’re an idiot, Joel,” I muttered to myself. “You could’ve ruined everything.”
My aunt’s voice crept into my mind, her words like daggers. You’ll never do anything right, Joel. You’re useless.
I took another gulp of wine, hoping to drown out the guilt and self-loathing.
Just then, my phone rang. Simeon’s name flashed on the screen.
“Joe, you okay? You didn’t come back to the studio.”
“I’m fine,” I lied, though my voice betrayed me.
“Doesn’t sound like it.” He paused. “What happened?”
And for the first time in a long time, I let myself be vulnerable. I told him everything.
“That was close,” he said with a chuckle.
“Yeah,” I agreed reluctantly, surprising even myself with a small laugh.
“But you didn’t cross the line, Joe. Don’t beat yourself up. You can fix this.”
“How?”
“Simple. Call her. Take her out on a proper date. Show her you’re serious.”
“Do you think she’d agree?”
“She will. She wouldn’t have met up with you today if she didn’t care.”
His words gave me hope. “Thanks, Simeon. I owe you one.”
“That’s what brothers are for.”
I ended the call, the weight on my chest lifting ever so slightly.
---
A/N: What do you think, guys?