Forgotten, Never Forgiven

"Hello, hello, hello!" Rachel's boisterous voice rang out across the restaurant. 

Samantha peered over the back of her booth, brushing her brunette curls off her forehead. She grinned. 

“Happy Birthday!” Rachel said, as she set a gift, wrapped in boutique style, on the table before leaning in for a tight hug. 

"What is this? I told you no gifts!" Sam said.

“You know that means nothing to me," she said, pushing the box across the table. "C'mon, Sammie, open it.”

Sam took her time opening the gift, her gestures exaggerated as she untied the oversized bow. Their laughter reverberated throughout the restaurant.

“Wait!” Rachel said, digging in her bag. “You have to read the card first!” 

Sam tore open the envelope and read the handwritten card aloud. 

Dear Sammie,

We have been through so much together, and I wouldn’t have wanted to go through it with anyone else. I’m honored to have been your college roommate, your maid of honor, your partner in crime, and your forever bestie. May you remember our good times with this gift.

Love, Rach

Sam smiled, set the card down with care, and pulled a worn blanket out of the box. Her fingers traced over the pattern, familiar even a dozen years later. She smoothed the frayed edges and transparent patches, thin from innumerable uses - parties on the beach, picnicking on the quad, tailgating at football games. Memories with Rachel in their college days flooded her mind, filling her with warmth.

"This is incredible!" Sam says, glowing. "Where in the world did you find this?" 

"I've had it tucked away for a long time," Rachel said, a faraway look in her eye. "It felt like the right time to give it to you." She beamed.  

"I love it, thank you so much. I will find a special way to display it." Sam said. 

After they had finished their meal, a long line of servers marched out of the back, weaving through tables and singing in a loud monotone. The leader held a plate with a towering piece of chocolate cake, crowned with a single lit candle. 

Sam glared at Rachel. "You didn't tell them, did you..." 

Rachel smirked and said "You'll thank me, their cake is incredible." 

Sam’s freckled face flushed a vibrant shade of cranberry and she bowed her head as they delivered the cake, finishing their song and dispersing. Interest in the celebration died down, and Sam's cheeks returned to their usual subtle pink as she blew out the candle. To many more birthdays with my bestie, she wished. 

"You're the absolute worst," she said to Rachel, spooning a piece of dark chocolate cake into her mouth. Her eyes widened. 

"See? I told you!" Rachel said, as she took a bite of her own. 

The cake having been devoured, Rachel set her fork down with a clatter. Sam glanced at her watch. 

"I'm pretty beat,” Sam said with a yawn. “I'll catch up with you soon. Thank you again for the blanket! It means so much.” She slid out of the booth, hugging Rachel before she walked towards the door, her blanket in tow. 

- 

Sam unlocked her front door, finally able to relax. Setting down her purse and the blanket, she flipped through the mail. A bill. Why isn't everyone paperless yet? she thought. A packet of coupons that she would go through later. And finally, a tattered, faded envelope with no return address. 

To: Sammie Meadows

The address was to her first apartment. She scratched her head. No one calls me Sammie anymore, except Rachel, she thought. And I haven’t seen my maiden name in years!  

Her eyes traveled along the envelope, to the bold yellow sticker with FORWARD printed on it. Stamped across the postage was the post-date: over a dozen years ago. 

Sam’s phone buzzed. A photo of Luke smiling appeared at the top. She glanced down at her wedding ring, her heart warm at the thought of their happy marriage together.

Luke: Hope you are having a great dinner with Rachel. I’m running late. See you soon, love you!

Sam set her phone aside and cut open the letter with care. Inside was a single, folded sheet of college-lined notebook paper, torn out of a spiral notebook with the jagged, perforated stubs still attached along the edge. 

The ink was faded but legible, even with the messy, boyish handwriting scrawled across the page. 

Hey Sammie,

I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have slept around on you. I'm a big jerk for doing so, and I understand why you broke up with me. I won't hold that against you. I think it's better that we are not together, anyway. I just wanted to say that I am actually sorry. I never should have hooked up with someone else, especially not your best friend. I hope you can forgive her. 

- Ryan

Despite her attempts against it, her mind raced back to that day, so many years ago. As a sophomore, she had been sitting on a bench, reading a textbook before class. 

“You… You’re Ryan’s girlfriend, right?” the freshman girl had asked, stammering.

Sammie nodded. 

“Yeah, I’ve seen you in class. I just, um, I wanted to tell you that I saw Ryan making out with another girl at the frat party last weekend. They left and I heard later that they… I felt like you should know,” the girl said, hesitant to deliver such a painful message.

“Who was she?” Sammie asked.

“I don’t know,” the girl said, already turning and walking away. “I hear sometimes it’s better when you don’t know,” she tossed over her shoulder.  

Sammie shot up from the bench and stormed to the Communications building, where Ryan would be in class.

 Sneaking into the cavernous lecture hall, she scanned the rows of hard plastic desks bolted to the floor. She finally caught sight of his unmistakable brown waves. The lump in her throat slid down and lodged itself in her stomach when she saw that he had his arm draped casually across a woman's shoulders. Was that her? Or was that yet another woman with which he was cheating on her?

Sammie hadn't cared to find out. Spinning around and stomping out of the lecture hall, she had ripped off the silver necklace - the one he had given her - and chucked it into the nearby garbage can. 

 Sam could feel that same knot in her stomach now. She was fighting back tears or vomit, she wasn’t sure which. 

Sam reached for the surprise letter and reread it. The only best friend she had back then - and now - was Rachel. He couldn’t possibly have been referring to her. 

Sam recalled the note she had found under the door to her dorm room so many years ago. She ran into her storage room, digging past birth certificates and elementary school report cards and all the extraneous junk she had held onto over the years. Sometimes it comes in handy - like right now, she thought, as she pulled out the note.

Perfectly folded on plain white computer paper, a feminine script flowed across the page.

Dear Sammie,

I sincerely hope that this letter helps and doesn't hurt. While I am not comfortable sharing who I am, I just wanted you to know that I am sorry for sleeping with Ryan, and I will never do that to a woman - especially you - ever again. I can barely live with the guilt and shame I feel from that drunken mistake of a night. I don’t understand why I accepted his advances. I must be a terrible person. I can never take back what I did and will never forgive myself. I only sent this letter in the off chance that reading my apology - even if you don't know who it’s from - will help you heal. I wish the best for you and your future. 

Regretfully, 

Yours

This isn’t definitive proof that it was Rachel, Sam thought. Anyone could have written this. Unless... 

She stood and darted across the room to her purse, digging out the birthday card that Rachel had just given her. Holding up the letter and the card next to each other, Sam inhaled sharply, her world turned sideways. It was undeniable - the handwriting was identical.

Sam sat down hard on the tile floor. She hung her head in her hands. How is it that her best friend in the whole world could have been the one that Ryan cheated on her with? How could Rachel do such a thing? And worst of all, how could she have hid it from Sam, and still been friends with her all these years? Sam collapsed, a sickening blend of salted tears and sharp acid on her tongue. 

She heard the front door unlocking and rushed to hide the letters. She wasn't sure what she was going to say to Luke. She hadn't known him all those years ago, and probably hadn't ever mentioned Ryan. She needed time to process. 

-

Sam, the knot in her stomach twisting and growing, peeked at Luke, confirming that he had finally fallen asleep.

She padded on bare feet to her home office, opening her laptop and rolling up her sleeves.

 Filled with the pangs of betrayal and self-pity, she logged onto social media, hoping to find Ryan’s profile. After some sleuthing, she spotted him; older and worse for wear, with a beer gut and - after verifying on the county website - a rap sheet. Definitely a good thing I didn't end up with him, she thought. Maybe Rachel did me a favor, she quipped. She stopped, feeling ill - she was not yet ready to joke about it.

The green icon next to Ryan’s name signified that he was online, even though it was late. Sam closed her eyes and took a deep breath before typing. 

Samantha: Hi Ryan. Long time no talk! Sorry for the random message, but I have to clear up a detail about my time in college. Do you have a second?

Ryan: sup?

Quite the wordsmith, Sam thought. 

Samantha: Do you remember when you cheated on me? This might sound crazy, but I need to know who it was with. 

Ryan: Wait, you never knew, all this time? 

Samantha: Correct. Can you tell me who she was?

Ryan: It was that best friend of yours. Brown hair, kinda taller. Rebecca?

Ryan: No, I remember. Rachel!

Samantha: Got it, that's what I needed to know. Thank you.

Sam logged off, shutting her laptop with a definitive thud. 

-

The Next Day

8:03am: Luke kissed Sam goodbye and reminded her to be at the construction company’s office at 6:00pm sharp for a meeting with the roofers. Why he would make a roofing meeting at 6pm on a Friday, she would never understand. A frozen seed formed in her gut.

10:08am: Sam furiously typed a long, nasty message to Rachel, then erased it. The seed expanded, filling her core with an icy cold. 

11:14am: Sam, her red-lined eyes dripping salty tears, typed a message to Luke, explaining what had happened and begging for advice, then erased it. The icy grip on her torso traced down her limbs. 

2:23pm: Sam trailed her pencil around her desk aimlessly, fuming, before snapping it in half. One more class, she thought. One more class and you can go. As the cold approached her fingers and toes, she moved closer to action. 

3:59pm: "Thanks, guys! See you next week!" she said as her students exited the lecture hall. She prayed no one had any questions. If she left right now, she could make it to Rachel's townhouse in time. If she waited any longer, it would be too late. Indecision consumed her.

4:07pm: Her body thoroughly frozen, she gathered her lecture notes, hoisted her bag onto her shoulder, and exited through the back of the building. 

- 

Plopping in her car, Sam thumbed through her playlists, but couldn’t find anything that matched her current mood. She tossed her phone aside, tired of wasting time. Silence it would be. More time to determine exactly what I'm going to say, she thought. 

Her plan was to be brief and direct, and to sever the friendship without being cruel. 

She practiced in the rearview mirror. 

"I know what you did." Too cliche. 

"Ryan didn't ever seem like your type." Too passive aggressive.

She paused, frustrated. I'll figure it out when I get there, she thought. 

Pulling up to Rachel's tall brick townhouse, she parked on the street a block away. Rachel's sky blue SUV wasn't there, and all the lights were off in the home. 

This is worth waiting for, she thought, glancing at the clock. She was running out of time. She checked her phone, reading a text from Luke. 

Luke: I just got to the construction office. See you soon.

Fine, she thought to herself. This will have to wait. 

Huffing, Sam pecked out a message back. 

Sam: On my way!

She threw her car in park and stepped on it, peeling out of Rachel's neighborhood, intent on following through with her goal to end the sham of a friendship as soon as she could. 

-

Sam pulled into the parking lot and stepped out of her car. This isn’t what I expected, she thought, scanning the generic office building’s exterior. No lights were on inside except in the foyer. Irritated and confused, she stepped onto the stoop, before feeling a vibration - a message from Ryan. What Pandora’s Box did I open by texting him? she thought. 

Ryan: Hey, last thing. Rachel was really drunk. I wouldn't say I coerced her, but just know that she wasn't the one pursuing me. 

Sam read the message three times. The icy knot that had wound itself all throughout her body loosened slightly. Doesn’t change anything, she thought, too stubborn to swallow her pride so easily. She gathered her laptop bag and purse in one hand, opening the door with the other - and then dropped everything, her mouth hanging open. 

"Surprise!" Voices rang out as the lights flashed on. Standing before her were the closest people in her life - Mom, Dad, old classmates, current faculty members, friends, Luke - and Rachel.

Sam allowed herself to embrace the comfort and delight that washed over her, seeing everyone together. Luke must have put so much work into this, she thought, her heart filling with the joy of friends and family. The heavy ache of having been betrayed was temporarily overshadowed by gratitude. 

Sam made her rounds, each interaction shadowed by memories of Rachel. Sam held her Mom’s hand in hers, a reminder of the warm squeeze of Rachel’s hand several years ago in the operating room waiting area, where they had sat together, preparing to hear the result's of Mom's cancer surgery. 

Sam hugged Dr. Bulinsky, her co-chair and someone with whom she had butted heads constantly until Rachel listened to her woes, talked her off a ledge, and gave solid advice. Now Sam looked forward to their weekly lunches. 

Alicia squeezed her shoulder, causing Sam to turn around. As they embraced, Sam reflected on the article they had written together - her first journal publication - and how supportive Rachel had been, insisting that she be the first person to receive a signed copy.  

Luke sauntered up, picking her up and dipping her backwards for a kiss. Once upright, Sam giggled and whispered, "I can't believe you set this up for me, thank you!"

"Oh, I didn't do much. This was all her planning!" Luke said, nodding towards Rachel. Sam swallowed roughly.

Rachel walked up next and hugged her, squeezing her tight around the shoulders. Sam looked into her warm green eyes, crinkled in the corners from smiling, and felt the iceblock that had settled around her heart thaw. Sam thought of the old college blanket back at home. It wasn’t perfect - tattered, thinning, with a tear or two - but it was whole, and it represented a lifetime of caring for the people in your life, of enjoying them and appreciating every day that you had with them. To Sam, the blanket perfectly represented their lasting friendship.  

Sam would need to talk about this with Rachel. She would need to understand why. She would need to hear an apology. But one bad decision with Ryan, some pervy, block-headed jock from a former life, wasn’t going to take Rachel away from her. 

"Group photo!" someone yelled. Sam invited everyone into one jumbled mass. "Smile," she said, as she felt a heavy burden, like a thick, scratchy coat that doesn't fit, slide off her shoulders, down her arms, and onto a heap on the floor. 

Who knew forgiveness - such a weighty decision - could feel so light?