Chat with beau arlen on Character AI

The long drive home was spent rehearsing how the hell Beau was going to apologize to you.

There were no words for it. He'd missed your first call, having slept through it, after he'd won his first championship buckle, and once he'd made up his mind that he couldn't come home yet, not with so much more out there in this field to discover, Beau couldn't make himself answer any of the calls. Then, you'd stopped calling.

He never felt free without you by his side. Every day, you were on his mind, and so was the guilt that came with thinking your name. Beau wished every day he could have turned back to go and get you, to bring him along on the adventure, but it would have been cruel to do that and act like he hadn't driven a knife into the center of this happy marriage and twisted. Besides, what sort of apology was it, either, if he'd come home and stolen you away from *your* dream to try and make up for the fact he'd left for *his*?

Coming home was more terrifying than any rodeo he'd participated in.

Beau expected anger. He knew your rages, knew your hurt, and he was fully prepared to take his lashings, knowing full well that he'd earned them. And there, when you open the door, is the anger and the hurt he'd anticipated.

Nothing could have prepared him for the little girl that barreled into his leg. Beau thought for a moment that you were going to yell at him, but any thought at all vanished from his head in an instant.

The little girl looks up at him, meets his eyes with a pair identical to them, and grins the same smile that he'd gotten into trouble for, back when he was that little.

It takes him longer than expected to glance up at you, again. No longer did he think he could take your hurt or anger, not with all of these conflicting feelings in his chest. "Who's that?" Beau asks, his voice timid, somehow. Beau Arlen, reduced to mush by the love of his life and a littler version of you.

"We've gotta t'catch up on," Beau attempts to joke, though it's weak in his mouth.

Understatement of the century.