A painful revelation

🎶Die with a smile–Lady Gaga, Bruno Mars🎶

RYAN

It’s been 15 minutes since I called Violet to tell her I was in Berkeley and to meet me at the restaurant where we went the last time. 

The soft clink of silverware against plates and hushed conversations of the other patrons did little to calm the knot in my stomach. My fingers drummed against the smooth surface of the table, my mind racing with everything I needed to say to her.

I’m going to tell her everything. All of it.

About Amelia. About the photo. About my past.

I don’t know what she’s thinking right now, but I’m sure she has questions. I’ve left her with nothing but confusion, and the worst part? I’ve probably made her feel like I don’t care. That’s the last thing I want. I’ve never cared about anyone like I care about Violet.

When I was younger, I could hide behind my charm, my confidence, my reputation as the guy who could never be tied down. But with Violet? Everything feels different. I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know how to make up for all the mistakes I’ve made.

The door to the restaurant opens, and for a split second, my heart jumps in my chest. But it’s not Violet. Just another couple coming in for dinner.

I exhale slowly, sinking back into my seat, my thoughts pulling me back to the past. Amelia had been a mess. She threw herself at me back then– that's how ladies are with me and I didn’t even think twice about it. That’s what I was like back then—careless. I didn’t care who I hurt as long as I got what I wanted.

But Violet is different.

I glanced at the clock again. Still no sign of her.

Maybe she doesn’t want to come. Maybe I’ve ruined everything already. Maybe she was still mad about the way I had reacted–for something that wasn't even her fault.

I rubbed my jaw, frustration building. No. I’m here, and I’m going to make things right.

The door opened again, and I look up, hoping this time it’s her

And it was.

Just the sight of her had a strange calming effect on me, like the tension in my shoulders eased slightly. She walked in with her brown curls bouncing with each step, but there was something about her today that felt... off. She wore a simple, soft blue sweater that made her look warm, paired with dark jeans.

The fire that always danced in her eyes—like she could take on the world—was gone. The usual sunshiny energy she radiated was dimmer now.

Did I hurt her that badly? My chest tightened painfully at the thought.

She closed the distance between us and took a seat, her movements slow, almost hesitant.

As she sat down across from me, I found myself at a loss for words.

“Violet...” I mumbled. “How are you doing?”

She shrugged slightly.  “Good,” she mouthed. It wasn’t the answer I’d been hoping for, but it was all I got.

The silence stretched between us, heavy and thick. I wanted to say something to break it, to make her feel like maybe things could go back to how they were before, but the words got stuck in my throat. 

I stared at her for a moment, searching her face for something—anything—that would give me an idea of what she was thinking. But there was nothing. Just the quiet, and the distance.

“I’m sorry, Violet,” I finally said, the words feeling inadequate as they left my lips. “For that night... I should have never reacted that way. You didn’t deserve that.”

Her eyes flicked up to mine for just a second before she looked away, her hands fiddling with the edge of the napkin on the table. “It’s okay,” she said softly, though it didn’t feel like it was.

I swallowed hard, wanting to say more, to explain everything, but I wasn’t sure where to start. There was so much I needed to confess, so much I had kept hidden. 

“I was just wondering...” She trailed off, glancing at her phone. There was a tension in the air now, something shifting, and I braced myself for whatever was coming. “When were you going to tell me about this?”

She flicked her phone towards me, and my throat went instantly dry. The screen displayed a picture of me and Amelia from years ago, from that damn party. My heart sank as I recognized the photo.

“When were you going to tell me that you knew her?” she asked, her voice rising slightly, trembling with emotion. “I noticed the way you acted around her, how you went quiet when I brought her up, how strange things got the last time we met her here, but I didn’t think much of it... until now.”

“No Vi. It wasn't…” I opened my mouth to explain, but she didn’t let me.

“Wasn’t?” She cut me off. “I deserve to know the connection between you two, don’t I?”

I took in a long breath trying to steady my nerves. “Yeah,and that was exactly why I came”

Her face became stunned. “Huh?”

“There's something you need to know..”

I said, my gaze dropping to my hands before meeting hers again. This was the hardest thing I’d ever had to say, but it wasn’t fair to her to keep it buried any longer. She deserved to know the truth, even if it tore her apart.

I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice. “Amelia... and I... we had a thing, years ago..at a part. A brief, careless fling. didn’t think it would mean anything at the time. Back when I was...well, you know the kind of guy I used to be.”

I could see her stiffen, her eyes narrowing, waiting for more. 

“A month later, Amelia came back. She told me she was pregnant.” I let the words hang in the air for a moment, watching Violet’s face carefully. “But Vi, you have to understand—at the time, I didn’t believe her.”

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything.

“Girls used to pull that kind of thing on me all the time back then,” I continued, my voice strained. “They’d try to tie me down, lie about being pregnant, claim they needed me to take responsibility. I didn’t believe her. I thought it was just another lie. So, I… dismissed her. I told her it wasn’t my problem.

Her breath hitched, and I could feel the weight of her silence pressing down on me. She wasn’t speaking, but the hurt in her eyes was loud enough.

I continued, pushing through the guilt that gnawed at me. “She had an abortion. I never knew it. Hell,I didn't believe she was pregnant. I found out just two days ago but I can only imagine how much it destroyed her”

The words tasted bitter in my mouth, the truth stinging worse than I had ever expected.

“Amelia kept it all hidden. But when she showed up here, I—I wasn’t ready to face the reality of what I’d done. I thought if I ignored it, it would go away. But it didn’t. And now, here you are, and It has messed things up with you, too. I don’t even know what I was hoping for when I came to see you today. Maybe I thought that telling you the truth would fix everything. But I’m not sure it can.”

Violet stared at me for a long moment, her lips parted, but no words came out. The silence stretched, the weight of everything I had just confessed settling over us.

I wanted to reach for her, to take her hand and tell her everything would be okay, but I knew I didn’t deserve that.

“Why?” she finally said, her voice breaking, and the sound of it felt like a knife to my chest. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

“Because I was ashamed,” I admitted, my voice low and unsteady. “Because I didn’t want you to see that side of me, the person I used to be. I didn’t want to risk losing you because of my past. I’m sorry, Mouse.” Her nickname felt fragile on my lips, almost like a plea. “I know I’ve hurt you, and I know this doesn’t make it any easier to trust me. But I need you to know that I’m not that guy anymore. I’ve changed. I’m trying to be better—for you, for us.”

Her eyes met mine, searching, questioning, and for a brief moment, I thought I saw her walls begin to crumble. But the pain in her gaze was still there, sharp and unyielding.

“I don’t know, Ryan,” she said at last, her voice trembling, barely holding back tears. “I just… I don’t know if I can do this.”

She rose from her seat abruptly, and I stood too, as if that might stop her. “It’s all too much. I can’t, Ryan,” she said, tears streaming freely now, leaving trails down her flushed cheeks. Her voice cracked as she whispered, “I’m sorry. I need to go.”

“Violet, wait—” I reached out instinctively, but she took a step back, shaking her head, and the distance between us suddenly felt insurmountable.

And then she was gone.

I stood there frozen, watching as she walked away, each step driving the knife in my chest deeper. My legs felt heavy, my throat dry, and my heart—it felt like it had been ripped from my chest.

The restaurant seemed unbearably quiet now, the world blurring at the edges as I sank back into my chair, staring at the empty spot where she’d been just moments ago.

For the first time in years, I felt truly helpless.