Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System!

Chapter 65 Forgive? That's My Disability

And as her breathing evened out again, he rested his chin lightly against her head, letting the silence wrap around them like a fragile truce.

Yeah, he thought, eyes closing. She had him. Completely.

But even then, the echoes of loneliness clung to him, sharp and relentless, like shadows with claws.

They bit at him, dug deep, and refused to let go. It wasn't her fault—Tessa had done everything right. She saw through the cracks he tried to hide behind. Saw him for what he was: broken in places he didn't want to admit.

The dinner wasn't just about love. She knew that. It was part of it, sure, but it wasn't the whole story.

Parker wasn't just looking for romance—he was holding onto the warmth she brought, trying to let it fill the emptiness inside him. But damn, that cold… that cold was stubborn. It clawed at him, whispering that nothing could truly thaw it out. Yet he found satisfaction in it!

Tessa saw it all. Not the confident Parker, not the clever quips or the stone-faced resilience he wore like armor—but the cracks. The quiet pain that spilled out in those moments he thought no one was looking. She had been observing him for days now and she thought it was time they addressed this.

Yes it wasn't in her place maybe but she couldn't allow herself see him bury himself in whatever pain he was or had experienced.

"Parker," she said softly, her voice breaking through the static in his head.

Her fingers slipped into his, light but firm. His spine tingled from the contact, a shiver rolling through him.

"You should learn to forgive," she said, her words quiet but heavy, like they carried the weight of a lifetime.

It hit him like a fucking sledgehammer. His body went rigid, his breath catching in his throat.

Forgive.

The word ricocheted in his mind, ripping open wounds he thought he'd buried deep. Memories surged forward uninvited, pulling him back to the life he lived after his parents were gone. A life that tasted bitter no matter how much he tried to sugarcoat it.

Forgive? He didn't even know where to start.

The silence between them was thick, almost suffocating, as Parker stared at the ceiling. The faint glow of city lights seeped through the curtains, casting long shadows on the walls. For a second, he thought he was fine, but deep inside, the echoes of loneliness clawed at him like phantoms gripping his soul.

Bitter memories—that's all Parker had. Sure, there were a few good ones mixed in, like the fact he wasn't out on the streets, that he had a roof over his head, went to school, had a shitty but steady job, and got to eat three meals a day. But was that enough?

Hell no.

None of it erased what the Blackwoods put him through. None of it made the pain less real or the scars any lighter. He could still remember it all, vivid and sharp, like a bad movie on repeat in his head.

That week when he was seven—it was right after his birthday. Parker had spent the entire week locked in his room, "punished" for reasons he didn't even understand. One meal a day, if you could even call it a meal. Dry toast and water? Yeah, real gourmet shit.

And Julian? God, Julian. The guy turned torment into an art form. The shit he put Parker through—it was relentless. Physical, mental, all of it. It didn't stop until Parker hit fifteen and was finally big enough to fight back. But by then, the damage was done.

Like that time in the pool that winter. The shirtless Parker had nearly drowned—actually drowned—and somehow, he still ended up being blamed.

Julian cried like a little bitch, and Robert, his dad, played the role of the "perfect parent," hugging his "terrified" son. Meanwhile, Parker was freezing his ass off, dripping wet and shaking so hard he thought his bones might shatter. And instead of warmth, instead of kindness, he got scolded into the ground.

The memory made his chest tighten. That winter, Parker swore he became colder than the ice he nearly died in.

And that was just a piece of it. There were so many other memories, darker that he wished to forget them, he had them all locked away in some dark corner of his mind. But he didn't want to remember. Not tonight. Not now.

A single tear rolled down his cheek before he could stop it.

"Fuck," he whispered under his breath, wiping it away angrily. Crying felt like weakness. And weakness wasn't allowed. Not in the Blackwood house, and not in his own head.

But Tessa saw it. All of it. The pain, the anger, the walls he kept so high no one could climb them. She saw the suffocating weight he carried like a goddamn curse.

"Parker," she said softly, breaking through the silence. She reached out, her hand brushing against his.

He flinched, but she didn't pull back.

"What?" His voice was sharp, defensive, but his eyes betrayed him.

"You need to learn to forgive."

That made him freeze. His jaw clenched so tight it hurt.

"Forgive?" he echoed, the word sounding foreign, like it didn't belong in his mouth. "Tessa, I can't—"

"Parker." Her tone was firm but gentle, like she wasn't gonna let him bullshit his way out of this.

He sat up, running his hands through his hair. "No, seriously, I can't. And honestly? I don't even want to." His voice cracked, and he hated it. "I don't want to forgive them. Not for a second."

"I'm not asking you to forgive them," she said, and her words stopped him cold.

"What?" He blinked, caught off guard.

Tessa reached out again, this time cupping his face in her hands. Her thumbs gently wiped away the tear trails he thought he'd hidden.

"I'm not asking you to forgive anyone. Not anyone, not even me, not anyone who's ever hurt you. Fuck them. They don't deserve it."

That hit him like a sucker punch.

"I know that but then... Then ain't that the hell are you asking me to do?" His voice cracked again, and he looked away, ashamed of how raw he sounded.

"Forgive yourself." She could tell his pain has been there for far too long.

Her voice softened, like she knew how much this was wrecking him. "Forgive the little boy who didn't know what to do. The kid who was scared and alone. Forgive him."

Parker's throat tightened. He shook his head, trying to keep the tears from spilling over. "Tessa, I—"

"It wasn't his fault," she cut him off. Her voice didn't waver. "It never was. And it's not fair for him to keep carrying that shit around like it's yours to own."

"There's nothing like fair and unfairness in this world, Tessa" He looked at her, eyes glassy and filled with a storm of emotions he couldn't name.

Tessa leaned forward, pulling him into a hug. His head rested against her chest, and she kissed his forehead, holding him close.

"I know. But let it go, Parker," she whispered. "Not for them. For you. You want revenge, you want them to pay? First forgive yourself then."

And just like that, the floodgates opened. Quiet, shaky sobs spilled out, and he hated himself for it, but he couldn't stop.

Tessa didn't say anything else. She didn't need to. She just held him, her arms tight around him like she was afraid he'd shatter into pieces if she let go.

For the first time in years, Parker let himself cry. He let himself feel everything he'd buried so deep without even realizing it.

Was he this weak?