Chapter 4: Echoes of Regret

Summary:
Justin and Josh face the fallout of past betrayals, with Justin's pain fueled by Josh's actions and Josh consumed by guilt. As painful truths emerge, both men must confront their fractured relationship. 

Author's Note:

• This is a JOSHTIN FANFICTION.
• All places, events, and names are purely products of the author's imagination.
• The story contains mature scenes, curse words, and other elements.
• Typographical errors may be present.
• Updates will be slow. 😊

Josh had never known pain like he knew at that moment. The realization hit him with the force of a thousand waves crashing against the shore. He remembered the searing ache when he'd mistakenly believed Justin had betrayed him. But how much worse must it have been for Justin to discover his involvement with Stacy? Josh's mind replayed the scenes—the way he'd flaunted his relationship with Stacy in front of Justin, the vindictive pleasure he'd taken in Justin's hurt expression. As he stared at Justin's proud, pale face, he longed to erase the pain he'd caused.

"I'm so sorry, Justin," Josh whispered, his voice raw with regret. "God! I'm so sorry." Justin's icy gaze bore into him, unyielding. "Is that why you disappeared and never returned to school? Because of me?"

Justin's response was stony, devoid of any emotion. "I left because my father suffered a heart attack," he said. "When he passed away, I discovered there was no money left. Going back was out of the question."

Josh's heart clenched. He'd sacrificed their love for pride, and now he was left with nothing but echoes of regret. Justin's pain mirrored his own, and the chasm between them seemed impossible. But perhaps, just perhaps, there was a chance for redemption—a way to bridge the gap and heal the wounds they'd inflicted upon each other.

In the quiet of that moment, Josh vowed to find a way back to Justin's heart, even if it meant unravelling the tangled threads of their past. Love, sacrifice, and personal growth—these were the themes that would shape their journey. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting shadows on their fractured souls, Josh knew that the path to forgiveness would be treacherous, but it was the only way to mend what was broken.

"Justin, you didn't have to go through that alone," Josh pleaded, his voice desperate. "You should have called me. No matter our circumstances, you know Tito was like a father to me. I would have come if I had known."

The bitterness etched on Justin's face deepened, and he held Josh's gaze for an agonizing stretch of time. His smile was tinged with sadness. "Oh, but I did try to call you, Josh," Justin said, each word a blade. "A few hours before Papa passed away, he was asking for you. He couldn't understand why you weren't there. I stalled as long as I could, but eventually, I called your apartment. Nate answered. He told me you'd left with Stacy to get married."

Josh staggered under the weight of Justin's revelation, his stomach churning. To learn that news on the same day Justin lost his father was gut-wrenching. Guilt, despair, and a profound empathy flooded Josh. In that moment, he would have given anything—everything he possessed—to rewind their shared history, to undo the mistakes they'd made.

"Justin, love, I'm so sorry," Josh choked out, his voice breaking. "So very sorry. It was all a mistake. A ghastly, stupid mistake. I'll make it up to you. Just give me a chance, and I'll fix everything. I'll erase all the pain. I swear."

Justin's smile remained enigmatic. "That won't be necessary," he said, stepping out of the office. "You see, Sharlene already did that a long time ago."

Josh stood there, his face drained of color, as the door closed behind Justin with a soft click. For a few seconds, he was paralyzed, staring at the spot where Justin had stood just minutes ago. Then the numbness lifted, and anguish consumed him. Breathing became a struggle. Tears welled up, spilling down his cheeks. Justin was slipping away, and it was all Josh's fault.

Minutes ticked by, and finally, he moved. Slowly, he opened the door and walked out. He noticed nothing else, thought of nothing else except the colossal foolishness that had led them here.

"Josh! Is the tour over?" Stell's concerned voice echoed down the hallway. "Josh? Hey, Josh! What's wrong?"

Josh walked past her, unseeing. At the elevator, he jabbed the down button and stepped inside, oblivious to Stell's worry. The descent felt like a descent into his own personal abyss, where regret and longing intertwined, and the echoes of love lost reverberated through the empty chambers of his heart.

-=-=-=-=-=-

In Sharlene's former office, Justin sank onto the couch, his trembling hands pressed against his temples. The room held memories—bittersweet fragments of a past that no longer mattered. It had all ended long ago. Knowing the reasons behind their unraveling didn't alter the ache in his chest. He was over Josh. Josh would no longer hurt him.

Determined, Justin pushed himself upright and crossed the room. As he neared the door, Mr. Ajero's voice echoed down the hallway, urgently calling for Josh. Stell's anxious tones followed, fading as she moved away. Justin heard the elevator's soft hum and the closing of doors, then silence settled like dust. He waited a few minutes before opening the door. The hallway was empty. He stepped out of Sharlene's office and headed toward his own.

Sinking into the chair behind his desk, Justin leaned back, closing his eyes. He willed his racing heart to calm, his frayed nerves to steady. There was nothing he could do now. All the memories he'd painstakingly hidden surged back—the raw pain, the shards of broken trust. The confrontation with Josh had torn open old wounds. With nauseating clarity, Justin relived that fateful morning when his world had shattered.

"Fool," he whispered to himself. Eager anticipation had propelled him up the steps to Josh's apartment. After two days of silence, he'd missed his boyfriend, yearned for reconciliation. There had been no warning. Justin had stood there, smiling, listening to the birds' song, waiting for Josh to open the door.

But what awaited him had been a cruel twist of fate—a revelation that would forever alter the course of their love. Josh's betrayal had been etched into Justin's soul, and now, as he sat alone in his office, he wondered if forgiveness was even possible. The echoes of regret reverberated through the quiet room, and Justin knew that some wounds ran too deep to heal.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Justin was looking out onto the street when he heard the door creak open. He turned with a smile on his face and froze on the spot. The smile on his lips gradually disappeared when he saw that Stacy opened the door wearing only the t-shirt he gave to Josh for their anniversary a week ago. Looking into Stacy's eyes, he could see the smug, malicious satisfaction that has painted her face.

"Good Morning Jah!" Her lips formed a cruel little smile. Stacy leaned against the door, causing the shirt to ride up and expose her bare thighs. Makes Justin see that she's wearing nothing under the t-shirt. She shifted slightly and looked over her shoulder, and saw Josh lying on the bed. The tangled sheets barely covering his nakedness. "I'm sorry I can't ask you in. Josh is still asleep. He was a bit...tired from last night."

Stacy's smile widened when she saw the shock and pain on her face. He just sobbed and quickly left there.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Justin's days blurred into weeks, a monotonous existence in the wake of pain. He moved like a robot on autopilot, following the familiar routines. It took a call from their family doctor, informing him of his father's heart attack, to jolt him out of his stupor.

His father's final day remained etched in Justin's memory. The relentless search for Josh felt like repeated stabs. From the beginning, his father had approved of Josh, granting them his blessing to live together in a house after graduation. Justin couldn't bear to tell him that Josh had discarded him like trash, nor could he refuse his father's request to call Josh.

The memory of that call was a fresh wound. With a stifled cry, Justin shook his head against the leather chair. He took a deep breath and gazed at the photograph of his late husband. His finger traced the contours of the beautiful face. What should I do, Sharlene? I shouldn't be hurting anymore, but the pain persists.

Tears welled up as Justin embraced the photo. Sharlene—the woman who had saved him years ago. Alone, grieving, and shattered, he'd started working at La Luna weeks after his father's passing. From the start, Sharlene had shown interest in him, treading carefully around his obvious unhappiness. When he'd poured out his heart to her, she'd been understanding, sympathetic, and unwaveringly supportive. She'd made him feel cherished, wanted, and loved, and gradually, the pain had eased.

They married a year after Justin began working at La Luna. He smiled at the memory of their small chaos. Wealthy, beautiful, and utterly charming, Sharlene was the most eligible bachelorette in their business circle. Many envied her, but some whispered that Justin had married her for money. It wasn't true. He loved Sharlene—not with the wild intensity he'd felt for Josh, but with a warmth and depth that satisfied him.

If Sharlene were alive, Josh's reappearance wouldn't faze her. She'd offer support, helping him put things in perspective. "So why can't I do it now? What should I do, Sharlene?" Justin wondered aloud.

He knew what he must do. Josh Cullen Santos belonged to his past. There was no place for him in Justin's present or future. He'd be polite but distant, and once this business deal concluded, he'd forget Josh all over again.

-=-=-=-=-=-

"Mr. Santos! Sir, you have several phone messages." The desk clerk's voice trailed after Josh as he strode through the hotel lobby. "The man said it's urgent and he needs to speak with you."

Josh ignored the message. Bypassing the elevators, he took the stairs up to his suite floor. Once inside, he headed straight for the bar. His fingers closed around the bottle of bourbon, and he poured a generous glass. Downing it in one gulp, he felt the burn slide down his throat. When that was done, he carried the bottle with him and locked himself in his room.

The walls seemed to close in on him, suffocating. He sank onto the edge of the bed, staring at the phone on the nightstand. Who could be calling him now? The past had caught up with him, and he was drowning in memories—of Justin, of Stacy, of their tangled lives. The weight of guilt pressed down on his chest, threatening to crush him.

"Josh," Justin's voice echoed in his mind. But apologies couldn't mend what was broken. Josh had hurt Justin irreparably, and now the consequences were crashing down upon them both.

He took another swig from the bottle, the alcohol numbing the edges of his pain. The room blurred, and he wondered if he could drink away the memories—the taste of Justin's lips, the warmth of their shared laughter, the betrayal that had torn them apart.

"I'm sorry, Justin," Josh whispered into the empty room. "I wish I could undo it all." But wishes were futile, and the past was etched in stone. He'd lost Justin, and no amount of bourbon could erase that truth.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the floor, Josh clung to the bottle like a lifeline. The phone remained silent, but the echoes of regret reverberated through his soul. He'd made his choices, and now he had to live with them.