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No. I hadn’t known better. Not even deep down.
That’s the worst part of all this. I had really believed Melody and I were made for each other and would go all the way—rings, marriage, kids, growing old together, the whole nine yards.
Now I can’t trust anything anymore—not Melody, not my heart, not even my gut, the one thing I used to assume would never let me down.
I reach the downtown area just as the coffee shops and diners are opening and duck into Donut Time, claiming a booth at the back. I order a bear claw and a bottomless cup of coffee and watch the people come and go for over an hour, dreading heading home, where John will be waking up soon, no doubt wanting an update on what happened at the hospital.
I called him last night while I was waiting to be seen by the ER doc to let him know what was going on. Now I wish I’d kept my mouth shut.
I don’t want to tell John that I wasn’t allowed to stay with Melody, or that her ex-boyfriend showed up at the hospital, or that I heard her call out Brian’s name in her sleep. I don’t want to lie down in my bed and know that the other side is going to be empty for the foreseeable future.
There’s no way Melody’s moving in with me now.
Finally, four cups of coffee later, I drag myself out of the booth and through the front door of the diner. I shuffle down the street toward home, feeling bruised all over and deciding that whoever named this sensation heartache was way off base.
This isn’t just in my heart. This is my entire body down to my bone marrow; an ache that gnaws away at my core.
I never imagined losing someone I love could be this physically painful, but it is, so bad that I decide to duck into the bodega and buy some extra strength painkiller before I head up the stairs to the apartment.
I’m so weary and sore and miserable that I’m past the bowling alley, nearly to the bodega’s entrance, before I see the blonde sitting on the curb in front of my building.
It’s her. She’s here.
Chapter 25
Nick
Hopeful wings flutter behind my ribs.
“Mel?” I ask, my voice cracking.
She looks up from her phone where she seems to have been stabbing in a text to someone. Our eyes meet, and hers narrow in a glare so intense that I flinch in response.
“What are you doing here?” I croak as she stands and starts toward me.
Even dressed in a wrinkled pair of khaki shorts and a faded brown Fun Mud Run T-shirt, she’s gorgeous. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Despite the menacing look she’s still aiming my way, a smile tugs at my lips.
I’m just so happy to see her that every ache and pain is banished by the wave of hope that swells inside my chest.
Maybe I was wrong.
Maybe Melody isn’t finished with me, after all.
“What is wrong with you?” she snaps.
Or maybe not…
“Good morning?” I say as she reaches me, stopping so close I get a whiff of the lingering scent of medicine and hospital cleaner clinging to her hair, so close that all I want to do is pull her into my arms and tell her how glad I am to see her out of bed and feeling good enough to be mad at me.
“No, seriously, I want an answer,” she continues. “What is the matter with you? Why did you send my call to voicemail? Why didn’t you call me? I mean, after the night we had, don’t you think I deserved a phone call? At the very least?”
“I’m sorry,” I say, exhaustion making my brain slower than usual. “Your mom told me to go.”
“So? Since when is my mom your boss?” She huffs with frustration. “She’s not even my boss, and she’s my mom.”
“And then your ex was there,” I say, scrambling to explain myself. “I heard your mom say you’d be glad to see him and—”
“I was not glad to see him. The only person I wanted to see when I woke up this morning was you. But you weren’t there.”
“I would have been,” I say, stomach clenching again at the memory of the yearning in her voice when she said stupid Brian’s stupid name. “But when I went to your room last night, you were moaning for Brian in your sleep. It made me think you wouldn’t want me hanging around, interrupting your reunion.”
“Are you freaking serious?” Her eyes go wide.
“Yes. I wouldn’t make up something like—”
“No, I didn’t mean that,” she cuts in with a shake of her head. “I mean, that you bailed because of something I said in my sleep. I was having a nightmare, Nick. Brian and I were trapped in his parents’ creepy old barn with zombies, and I’d just watched one tear his face off. I don’t love him or want to be with him anymore, but I don’t want him to lose his face.” She takes a deep breath and barrels on. “Dreams are dreams, and I can’t be held accountable for what I mumble in my sleep. I mean, seriously, I’ve had steamy dreams about people I hate. One time, I dreamed I was making out with my soccer coach from third grade who had hair all over his back.”
