Until Harry(58)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Day three in York

Lane?”

I blinked away the memory that had taken hold of me and turned my head to the voice that called my name, and when I found the source was Ally Day, my gaze hardened.

It was Sunday, the day after my uncle’s funeral, and my family, family friends and a bunch of other people had dropped by my parents’ home, some to talk about their good times with my uncle, while others were drinking.

I made sure that I steered clear of alcohol. I hadn’t touched a drop of it in seven years, and even though I felt like I was at my lowest point, I kept my private vow never to use alcohol to mask my pain again. I had done that enough in my late teenage years, and I never wanted to fall back into that state of mind.

“What do you want, Ally?” I quipped, pushing loose strands of hair from my face. “I’m not in the mood to be put down. I’ve had a shitty weekend, in case you haven’t noticed.”

Ally winced. “I deserve that.”

“You think?” I sarcastically asked.

She played with the hem of her cardigan as she said, “Lane, I’m sorry.”

I turned my body to face her fully. “For what?”

She swallowed and said, “For how horrible I was to you when we were younger. I have no excuse for it. I was mean, horrible and a straight-up bitch to you for no reason. I wish I could take it all back.”

I tilted my head as I stared at her.

“I wished for that countless times too,” I stated. “I wished every night after that day in Anna’s house that I could rewind and not go there. Do you understand how much your words, and Anna’s, had an impact on me? I wanted to die because I felt so bad about myself. You played a part in making me feel like that.”

Tears welled in Ally’s eyes.

“I’m terribly sorry. I had no idea of the hurt we caused you.”

I didn’t bat an eyelid.

“Of course you didn’t. You were too wrapped up in Anna to see anything else, never mind seeing the impact your words and actions had on others.”

Her tears fell from her eyes and splashed onto her now red-blotched cheeks.

“I hate myself for how I behaved in school. I never wanted to be that person, Lane. I just acted mean to seek approval from Anna. I don’t know why I needed to be friends with her, because she was horrible to me, even worse than what she was with you.”

I scowled. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for you, Ally?”

“No,” she answered, “I’m not trying to make this about me. I just wanted you to know why I was the way I was. I did some horrible things to fit into a nasty friendship with someone who wasn’t worth it, and I hurt you and many others in the process. I’ll forever be sorry for the things I said to you.”

I didn’t know whether to accept her apology or not, even though it was obvious she was very sorry for what she had done. The heartbroken teenager within me wanted to watch her cry and have her feel horrible for what she had done to me, but I shook that version of myself away. If I did that, I would be no better than Ally or Anna back in the day.

“I can see that you’re sorry,” I commented.

“I am,” she sniffled. “I swear it.”

I sighed deeply. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Ally. I can’t just switch off the dislike I have for you. You were a part of making growing up as a teenager more difficult than it needed to be.”

“I’d take it all back if I could,” she vowed.

I raised an eyebrow. “Why now?”

“Huh?” she hiccupped.

“Why are you saying all this to me now?” I clarified.

Ally shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve wanted to apologise to you for years, but you’ve been in the States, and I didn’t want to find you on Facebook and send you everything I had to say in a text message,” she explained. “Anything short of the apology I’m giving you now wouldn’t have cut it, not to me.”

That surprised me.

“You’ve changed since I last saw you,” I commented after a moment of silence.

I didn’t mean her appearance, and Ally knew that.

“I have,” she said, nodding. “I’ve grown up, and I’ll have to live with the things I have done and said, but all I can do now is offer my apology and prove that I’m a better person.”

My gut told me that she was being sincere.

“I . . . I can’t believe I’m saying this, and meaning it, but I forgive you, Ally,” I said after a pregnant pause. “We won’t be friends anytime soon, but I do believe that you’re sorry for what you did, and I accept your apology. We don’t have to talk about it again; it’s in the past where it belongs.”