How many times had he heard those words? Hell, how many times had he said them himself? For some reason though, tonight he just couldn't get them past his lips. They were right there, on the tip of his tongue, but they just wouldn't come out no matter how hard he tried. He knew that that was all it would take to save his friendship. Why couldn't he just say them?
He knew why. He couldn't say them because they weren't true. He wasn't sorry. He didn't believe he'd done anything wrong, but as his best friend sat there, expectantly, he considered saying them anyway. In the end he hadn't. In the end he had watched the only person he'd ever been close to walk out of his life. For good. No matter how many times he'd replayed the events of that evening, he still believed he'd been right in what he'd done. What was funny though was that now, none of that mattered. As he sat, watching the sun dip into the vast horizon, all he could think about was what if.
What if he'd kept his mouth shut and walked away?
What if he'd kept his accusations to himself?
What if he'd never balled up his fist and struck his best friend in the face?
What if....
The other guys had seen him lose his temper and had pulled them apart, demanding to know what the hell was the matter with him. All he could think of was the rage he'd felt, turning to shame when he saw the blood on his lip. The shocked, hurt look on his face. Oh, he may not have been right in hitting him, but Justin still felt he'd been right in confronting him. The hurt had turned then to anger. That didn't bother Justin because Chris had been angry at him before. What bothered him was that it had been months and Chris still hadn't spoken to him. He wouldn't return his calls. He quickly left if Justin showed up anywhere he was. JC, Joey, and Lance had tried again and again to smooth things out between them, but their efforts were futile. Justin had gone too far this time and he didn't know if it could ever be smoothed out again.
Beating himself up over it didn't do any good. JC had come over and talked to him about everything that had happened. Justin smiled to himself now, thinking about Jayce. Always the peacemaker, he had not taken sides, but had tried to listen and understand. He'd even offered to get together with him and Chris so they could talk this through. Justin had declined, thanking JC. He knew this was something that he and Chris had to work out on their own. They didn't understand why it was so hard for him to say he was sorry, to admit he was wrong. He'd never been good at either of those things. One thing that pushed him now though was that he missed his friend. He missed his cheerful voice cracking joke after joke or howling with laughter after they'd pulled some practical joke on one of the other guys. He missed Chris.
Sighing heavily, Justin got up from the deck chair and stepped into his house. He set his mug down on the counter and turned to stare at the cordless phone sitting on the table. It seemed to call out to him and he moved toward it. Before he knew what was happening, he had dialed Chris's number and was listening to it ring. Halfway through the fourth ring, Chris picked up. Justin swore silently. He hadn't expected the longing that would wash over him when he heard that voice. Chris said hello a second time and Justin knew he had to say something.
"I'm sorry," He whispered. Chris's voice drilled through him, asking him to speak up. He couldn't hear him.
"It's Justin," he croaked, "I'm sorry. Chris, I'm so sorry." It was some time before Chris answered him and Justin started to panic, thinking he'd hung up.
"It's about fucking time," Chris said, making Justin laugh nervously.
"Better late than never I guess."
Justin slowly relaxed as they talked. Chris accepted his apology and it seemed that they would be able to muddle through all this. They made plans to meet later and Justin hung up the phone, setting it down again. His hand rested on the counter beside it and he closed his eyes. He knew they wouldn't talk about what had happened. They would move on and it would be left behind, forgotten. He didn't know if things could ever be the same between them, but he hoped they would.
He hoped that Chris would eventually forgive him completely.
He hoped that they could go back to the friendship they'd had.
And he hoped that someday he could actually believe that he meant it when he said, "I'm sorry."