Angelina met Pamela in brodie house And apologized to Pamela. 😱

Angelina:
Pamela…?

Pamela: (looks up, startled, then cold)
Angelina. I didn’t expect to see you here. Not after everything.

Angelina: (takes a deep breath, voice trembling slightly)
I know. I shouldn’t just show up like this. But… I had to see you. I had to say—I’m sorry.

Pamela: (stands, arms folded)
Sorry? After three months of silence, this is how you come back? No calls. No texts. You disappear, and now you want to play the remorseful ghost?

Angelina:
I deserve that. Every word. I—I made a mess of everything. I let my pride… my fear get in the way. But I never stopped thinking about what I said. About what I did.

Pamela: (voice rising)
You accused me of betrayal, Angelina. In front of everyone. Without even asking me what actually happened. Do you know how that felt?

Angelina: (steps forward slowly)
Like I didn’t trust you. And the truth is—I didn’t. Not because you gave me a reason not to, but because I was scared of losing what we had. And in trying to protect it, I destroyed it.

Pamela:
You believed a rumor. A rumor. And not me. That’s what broke me.

Angelina: (voice breaking)
I believed what I wanted to believe, because it was easier to be angry than to admit how much I cared. How much I still care.

Pamela: (looks away, blinking quickly)
You really hurt me, Angelina. I wasn’t sure I could forgive you.

Angelina: (quietly)
I don’t expect you to—not right away. But I need you to know I’ve changed. I’ve been doing the work. Therapy. Journaling. Digging deep. I even wrote you letters I never sent. All I could think was: if I ever get one more chance to stand in front of her, I’ll say it right.

Pamela: (sits down again, softer tone)
Letters, huh?

Angelina: (nods, nervously pulls a folded envelope from her coat pocket)
This one… I brought. It’s honest. Raw. Maybe even a little pathetic. But it’s me. No masks.

Pamela: (takes the letter, doesn’t open it yet)
I can’t promise we’ll go back to what we were.

Angelina:
I’m not asking to go back. I’m asking… if we can move forward. Even if it’s slow. Even if it’s just coffee, or awkward silences, or starting over as strangers who once knew each other too well.

Pamela: (smiles faintly for the first time)
You really are different. The Angelina I knew would’ve stormed in, blamed me, and walked out.

Angelina:
The Angelina you knew was scared of being vulnerable. The one standing here now is scared too—but she's not going to run anymore.

Pamela: (after a long pause)
Okay. Coffee. But I’m picking the place.

Angelina: (relieved laugh through teary eyes)
Deal. Just… no Brodie House blends. Their espresso tastes like burnt wood.

Pamela: (chuckles softly)
Still the same coffee snob.

Angelina: (smiling, hopeful)
Only now with a better appreciation for what really matters.

[Scene fades out as Pamela unfolds the letter and begins to read silently. Rain continues to fall outside, but inside Brodie House, a fragile bridge begins to form.]