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He looked just as handsome as he had the day before, of course. Maybe even a little better to rub in just how awful I looked. It was a good thing there was no chance of anything ever happening with him anyway, not while he lived in this place I was so determined to get away from.
That’s when I remembered my phone and those messages from Evan. Eventually, I’d have to take a closer look and see what kind of damage Drunk Me had done.
I had sworn never to speak to Evan again, so I couldn’t imagine being the one to text him first. But he had also chosen Natasha over me, so I couldn’t imagine him wanting to speak to me again either. Unless it was an attempt for him to resolve his guilt, which I certainly wasn’t going to help him do.
Maybe in my disoriented state that morning, I had imagined seeing the messages altogether? Yeah, that was it, I decided. I was getting so used to the worst thing that could happen actually happening that now it was too easy for me to have believable, vivid fantasies that the next bad thing was happening…even if it wasn’t.
Having convinced myself that was the only conceivable truth, I pulled out my phone and slowly slid my thumb across the screen to unlock it. I was wincing as I navigated to my text message inbox.
It was a sunny day with light streaming through the windows, lighting up the lingering specks of dust still floating through the air as they drifted to settle somewhere again. But all of that seemed to suddenly turn gray and dark in my mind. My heart pounded as I read the exchange.
Evan: Hey.
A breath of relief gushed from my lungs. I hadn’t been the one to initiate the conversation. At least I had managed to maintain some shred of dignity by not texting him first.
If only it had stopped there. I should have left him on ‘read.’ Sober Me would have been smart enough to do that…I think.
Melody: Hey yourself.
I checked the time stamps to see that five minutes barely passed between his first message and my reply. Sober Me would have at least made him wait a few hours for a response, if I sent one at all. I would have paced around and panicked and over-thought every possible outcome and then called Katie for advice before ever typing a single letter.
But drunk me fired right back at him.
Evan: How are you?
Melody: Terrible. I’m in Silver Point.
Evan:…Upstate?
Melody: No. Tennessee.
Evan: TN!? What the hell are you doing all the way down there?
Melody: You know my mom passed away. I know you do because I got the card and the flowers you sent to the funeral home addressed to everyone but me. I’m handling the last of her affairs. She has a lake house here.
Evan: Mel, I’m so sorry. I wanted to call.
Melody: And yet. You didn’t.
Evan: I know.
Finally, a half-hour elapsed between the time stamps. Maybe I finally came to my senses and realized how hopeless it was…that he wasn’t worth my time. He didn’t deserve to hear back from me or have a chance to say he was sorry. Not after all this time had passed.
Evan: I miss you.
Melody: Where’s Natasha?
Another hour passed, and for some reason, I thought I could remember this part of the night before through my drunken haze. I couldn’t recall anything that came before that. Though, I did remember laying on the couch and drifting off to sleep with a heavy ache of longing sinking into my chest.
The last thing I sent to him the night before…
Melody: I miss you too.
I flailed my arms in the air, cursing myself. Why couldn’t I have just kept up my streak of unapologetically hating him!? He deserved to feel uncomfortable and suffer through the exchange, so he’d think twice before ever trying to contact me again.
But no, I had to surrender that one last shred of dignity I was clinging to after all. I just had to go and let him win. To let him know I still thought of him, still loved him. That at night I laid awake and still remembered so vividly what it was like to feel him sleeping next to me.
How could I not after six years? Maybe he could just forget me overnight, long enough to go sleep with one of the models my own agency represented, so bold and shameless. But I wasn’t like him. I didn’t know how to flip the switch and turn all of my feelings off at the snap of my fingers. If I did know how, I would have done it the moment I found out he was cheating on me. Things would have been easier on me that way.
