I was torn apart. The betrayal cut deep, but so did the thought of losing the friend who had been my lifeline for nearly a decade. Could I erase everything she had done to heal me because of one choice in the past?
Days later, I met Ava at the park where our friendship had begun. “I can’t forget,” I admitted. “But I don’t want to lose you either.” Some wounds never vanish, but forgiveness doesn’t mean forgetting—it means choosing grace where trust once broke. And in that choice, our friendship found a fragile, new beginning.
