The promise of seeing that prom footage ignited a spark of excitement in me, even if Caleb couldn’t care less. Something told me this tape held more than just old memories—it held answers.
I rushed into Connor’s bedroom clutching the VHS tape like it was a treasure chest.
My heart was racing, not just from excitement but from a strange mix of nostalgia and curiosity.
Connor followed behind me, looking as if he’d rather be anywhere else.
“I’m telling you, Pam, this is a bad idea,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. His unease was written all over his face.
“Bad idea?” I repeated, scoffing as I crouched to plug the VCR into the small TV in his room.
“Connor, this is the best idea I’ve had all night. Come on, don’t you want to relive prom?
This is history, our history.”
Connor sighed heavily, crossing his arms. “I just think some things are better left in the past.”
“Not this,” I insisted, sliding the tape into the player. “This is gold.
Ready? Here we go!”
As the tape whirred to life, the screen filled with the grainy, slightly distorted image of Connor’s mom holding a camcorder. Her voice came through loud and clear, cheerful and commanding.
“Connor, smile!
It’s prom night!” she chirped from behind the camera.
Young Connor appeared on the screen, a boy trying to fit into a man’s suit.
His hair was slicked back with too much gel, and his bright red tie was slightly crooked. He looked like he wanted to disappear.
“Mom, stop filming,” he groaned, shifting uncomfortably under her gaze.
“You’ll thank me when you’re older!” she shot back with a chuckle.
I burst out laughing. “Wow, she really said that!
You weren’t kidding.”
Connor didn’t share my amusement. “Pam, I’m serious. Let’s just stop this.”
Ignoring him, I leaned closer to the screen as the tape transitioned to a car ride.
The camera jostled slightly, showing the interior of the vehicle and Connor in the passenger seat.
“Mom! Stop the car! Pull over!” young Connor suddenly shouted.
“What’s wrong?” his mom asked, the camera swinging to catch his panicked expression.
“It’s Pam,” he said, pointing out the window.
“She’s crying.”
The camera panned to a younger version of me, sitting on the porch of my house, my face buried in my hands. I remembered that night all too well.
Caleb had been late, and I’d convinced myself he wasn’t coming. I was heartbroken, ready to skip prom entirely.
“I’ll go ask her to prom, I’m ready to tell her about my feelings,” Connor said softly.
His mom’s voice was full of warmth.
“My little prince. Go ahead.”
The footage showed Connor stepping out of the car, straightening his tie as he approached. But before he could reach me, another car pulled up.
Caleb stepped out, his dad giving him a light shove to hurry him along.
I looked up, my tear-streaked face breaking into a radiant smile when I saw Caleb.
Without hesitation, I ran to him, leaving Connor standing alone in the driveway.
The camera caught every moment—my joy, Caleb’s smug grin, and Connor’s heart sinking as he watched from afar.
I hit the pause button, my hand trembling. “Connor… You were going to ask me to prom? Even more, you were going to tell me that you loved me…?”
He didn’t meet my eyes.
“It doesn’t matter now, Pam. It never did.”
“But all these years…” My voice cracked. “You cared about me?”
Connor finally looked at me, his expression pained but resolute.
“Of course I did.
But you were happy with Caleb, and that’s what mattered. That’s all that ever mattered.”
Tears streamed down my face as I tried to process what I’d just seen and heard. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Connor shook his head, giving me a sad smile.
“Because you were already where you wanted to be. And I couldn’t ruin that.”
The room felt heavy with unspoken words. I didn’t know what to say, and for once, Connor didn’t fill the silence.
We both stared at the frozen image on the screen, young Connor standing alone in the shadows while I walked away, blissfully unaware.
We returned to the living room, where Caleb was still glued to the TV, oblivious to everything.
But something inside me had shifted.
I sat next to Connor, stealing glances at him as he pretended everything was fine. The memory of that night, of his quiet heartbreak, lingered in my mind.
“Connor,” I whispered. “You’ve always been there for me.
I see that now. You’ve always been more than a friend, haven’t you?”
“Pam, please,” he said, his voice breaking. “Let it go.”
I bit my lip, unsure of what to do.
My heart was torn between the familiarity of Caleb and the quiet, unwavering love Connor had always shown me.
“Maybe in another life,” I said softly.
“Maybe,” Connor replied, his smile bittersweet.
That night, I lay awake, wondering what could’ve been. For the first time, I questioned everything I thought I knew about love—and what it meant to be truly seen.
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