REWOVEN BONDS

Days turned into weeks, and Vincent felt himself sinking deeper into a chasm of loneliness. The initial rush of his calculated decisions—the manipulation of John's trust, the careful positioning of himself within the web of the scandal—had slowly worn off. The sense of power he had once relished now felt hollow, like a weight on his chest that he couldn't shake.

He spent more and more time alone in his dorm room, staring blankly at the walls, his mind constantly returning to the moment he had turned his back on John. It was as though the betrayal had been a curse, a poison seeping into every corner of his life. He could feel the eyes of the people around him, the way they looked at him with a mixture of admiration and suspicion. He had done what he had to do, right? He had ensured his own survival in a world that didn't care about loyalty or friendship.

But why did it feel so wrong now?

Meanwhile, John was trying to rebuild. It wasn't easy. Even though the truth had come to light—that someone higher up in the company had been the real culprit behind the financial misdeeds—it didn't erase the fact that John had been dragged through the mud, his reputation temporarily stained.

In the face of it all, John had decided to keep his head down and focus on what he could control. He threw himself into his studies, ignoring the whispers that followed him through campus. It wasn't the first time he had faced adversity. In Occra, his parents had always taught him to rise above the gossip, the judgment, and to trust that his heart would guide him to the right place. He had clung to that lesson, believing that it would help him through this ordeal. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't forget the look in Vincent's eyes the night he had needed him the most.

John had always been the one to give people the benefit of the doubt. He had believed that friendship meant loyalty, even in the darkest of times. But Vincent's actions had shattered that belief. The betrayal stung deeper than he cared to admit, and it had left him with a bitter realization: people, even those closest to you, would always look out for themselves first.

As the weeks passed, Vincent could not avoid the reality of what he had done. His interactions with his fellow students had become increasingly shallow, and even his academic pursuits, which once brought him joy, now felt meaningless. He would often sit in the library, surrounded by his books, but his thoughts wandered, drifting back to John—the one person who had always been there for him, the one person he had hurt the most.

One night, after a particularly grueling round of self-loathing, Vincent couldn't take it any longer. He picked up his phone and stared at John's number. It had been weeks since they had spoken—weeks since Vincent had made the conscious decision to distance himself, to let the betrayal take root. He could feel the heaviness of his guilt pressing down on him, but more than that, he felt a yearning to make things right, even if it was too late.

With trembling fingers, Vincent dialed the number.

John's phone buzzed on his bedside table, startling him. He glanced at the screen, his heart skipping a beat when he saw Vincent's name. He hadn't heard from him since the scandal had broken. Hesitant, John answered, his voice steady, but with an undercurrent of pain.

"Vincent."

"John," Vincent's voice was soft, almost tentative. "I... I wanted to talk to you. I know it's been a long time, and I—"

"Why now?" John interrupted, his tone sharp. He didn't mean for it to sound that way, but the hurt was still raw, and he couldn't disguise it. "Why after everything? Why after... you left me to deal with all of that on my own?"

Vincent took a deep breath. He could feel his heart racing, knowing that no words could ever undo what he had done. "I know I messed up. I know I can't fix this. But I... I've been thinking a lot about everything. And I realize that I failed you. I betrayed you. And I hate myself for it."

John was silent for a long moment, and Vincent could almost hear him trying to gather his thoughts. "You did," John said finally, his voice thick with emotion. "But why, Vincent? Why did you do it? I trusted you. I gave you everything, and you threw it all away."

Vincent's throat tightened, and for a moment, he couldn't speak. The weight of John's words was suffocating. "I... I was scared, John. Scared that you would outgrow me. Scared that I wouldn't matter to you anymore. And when everything with the internship happened... I saw a way out. A way to prove that I could survive without relying on anyone. And I took it."

John's voice cracked, the pain seeping through his words. "That's not the way to do it, Vincent. You don't push people away to prove you're strong. You don't hurt the people who care about you."

Vincent closed his eyes, his hand shaking as he held the phone to his ear. He had no excuse. The truth was clear. He had been driven by fear, by his own insecurities, and he had allowed those fears to destroy the one thing that had always mattered to him—his friendship with John.

"I'm sorry," Vincent whispered, the words feeling too small for the enormity of what he had done. "I'll never be able to fix this, but I needed you to know that I'm sorry. I don't expect you to forgive me. I just... I needed to say it."

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Finally, John spoke, his voice heavy with a weariness that Vincent knew all too well.

"You're right," John said. "You can't fix this. And I don't know if I'll ever be able to trust you again. But I hope, one day, you'll understand that trust isn't just given. It's earned. And it takes more than words to rebuild."

Vincent's heart sank as he heard the finality in John's voice. He knew the truth in those words all too well. No matter how many times he apologized, no matter how much he regretted his actions, it would never be enough.

The call ended, and Vincent sat in silence, the weight of John's rejection settling over him. He had known, deep down, that the friendship they once had was gone. But hearing it from John—the person he had betrayed most—made it all the more real.

Vincent knew that he could no longer run from the consequences of his actions. He had made his bed, and now he had to lie in it. The realization hit him harder than anything else—he had spent so long trying to protect himself from the world, but in doing so, he had destroyed the one thing that had truly mattered. Trust was fragile, and once broken, it could never be fully repaired.

As he sat in the quiet of his room, Vincent came to a painful understanding: he had learned the hard way that betraying someone's trust, no matter the reason, left scars that could never be erased.

And as for John? Vincent wasn't sure if they would ever speak again. But he knew one thing for sure—he would never forget the lesson he had learned. The price of betrayal was far greater than any success he had gained from it.