Page 69 of Where You Are
“You both did,” he interrupts. “You’re both humans and you messed up when the unimaginable happened. Forgive each other, hell, forgive yourselves and fucking be together.”
I don’t even try to formulate a response. I welcome his words falling down on me and will myself to process each one of them.
“Is that what you want?” he prods me.
I take a moment to think, even though I don’t need it. I already know what I want. I just want to give my best friend a true, genuine response regarding my feelings towards a future with his sister.
“Yes,” I tell him with true conviction, my voice full of all the longing and emotion I feel for Melanie. “Yes, I want to be with her Jack. I want to be with Melanie for the rest of my life.”
He lets out a sigh that’s half exasperation and half relief, and the side of his mouth pulls up in a knowing smirk.
“So make it happen,” he says, sitting back. “It needs to be you, man. You need to cross to her side, at least this time.”
I tilt my head and lock eyes with him as I listen to him, welcoming and absorbing his insight.
“She’s trying to put herself back together and repair the damage done, but she’s been frightened, humiliated, and she’s still feeling ashamed and undeserving. Even though she didn’t do anything wrong, just having a history with this fucker has her feeling responsible and she feels like shit for leaving, even though she truly believed in her heart it was the right thing. If you want to be with her, pride can’t play a factor in this one,” he informs me as he drains his glass and stands to retrieve the bottle again. “You need to take a few steps towards her so she knows she can take some towards you. She’ll do everything in her power to make things right with you; you just have to let her know that it’s possible.”
I nod and look up at him, hoping he can read the sincerity in my eyes.
“I won’t take a few steps towards her, Jack. I’ll go all the way.”
I mean what I say. I had a hard time seeing and hearing Melanie before, let alone going back to her.
While I still wish to God that she had come to me or anyone in her family for help, all of a sudden, it doesn’t matter. Not anymore. Even I if I still wanted to be mad at her for that, she’s paid her penance a thousand times over. All that matters now is moving forward; healing. Loving each other.
I love her with every fiber of my being. I want to show her that and put the sunshine back in her more than I want to dwell on what she did. I just hope she still loves me too.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Melanie
Miraculously,both twins are asleep in their cribs at the same time, a rarity that has driven Sarah past the brink of insanity on several occasions. I quietly come down the stairs to the kitchen and flip on the video monitor, just as Sarah comes in the side door of the kitchen. I give her a humorous smile, making my eyes big and wide as she unwinds her scarf.
“They are bothsleeping!”I exclaim in a stage whisper, holding my hands up to add dramatic effect.
“You’re kidding!” she whispers back loudly, with a look of relief and disbelief on her face. “Oh I am so taking a bubble bath!”
I give her a small smile and gather up my coat, heading for the door when I remember Steve.
“Oh, I forgot, Steve’s asleep on your couch,” I tell her absently as I head for the small living room, and sure enough, find a tiny ball of black fur still curled up on the end.
“He can stay,” Sarah says with a wave of her hand. “We kind of like his goofy face. It helps when I want to throttle Mike in a sleep-deprived rage.”
“Okay,” I let out on a gentle giggle as I turn back towards the door, and it feels good; genuine. I venture out to the back patio and cross my arms against the cold on the short walk over to the pool house. I know I can’t stay here and do this forever, but nannying my niece and nephew, along with meeting Steve, have helped fill the giant void in my soul. I’m still not whole. There’s still a big empty space in my heart where Matt’s love had been before, but being home and with family, as well as coming clean, has definitely eased the burn, helping me see that happiness is possible. It will just take some time, probably a lot of it, but it can happen.
After managing most of a turkey sandwich and some chips for dinner, I take an extra-long, hot shower, and put on a long t-shirt, intent on slipping into bed for another night of restless sleep. I look around for the TV remote, as I’ve been falling asleep to it lately. I’m just pulling back the covers to see if it’s in the bed when there’s a hard knock at the front door that makes me jump. After replenishing my breath for a couple of seconds, I lean into the short hallway that gives me a view of the front door. I can barely tell through the opaque window that there’s a man’s figure on the other side, but Mike wouldn’t knock like that, and not knowing who it is gives me the creeps all over. I stand frozen, unsure of what to do when the figure knocks again and this time calls out.
“Em?”
Oh my God.
Matt’s voice is laced with an emotion I can’t pinpoint. It sounds yearning, almost desperate. A small ball of warmth pulses to life deep in the pit of my stomach, and I feel my heart start to pound. All of a sudden I’m on auto pilot, walking straight to the door. I open it to find the most handsome man I’ve ever seen with dark scruff along his jaw and his black hair hanging down in his face, his blue eyes are wide and glassy and saying so much. A myriad of different emotions swirl together in their depths: disbelief, gratitude, forgiveness, pleading, wonder.
He knows.
And in this moment we speak a thousand words without making a sound. All is forgiven. Nothing else matters but right now.
I stand frozen as he takes a couple of slow steps towards me, bringing his strong hands up to cradle my face. I take him in as my hands seem to automatically come up to rest on his chest. He’s not wearing a coat, and a small part of my mind wonders if he came over here in a hurry. Regardless, his chest feels warm through his black thermal shirt. I stare up at him as he stares down at me, like we’re both trying to figure out if the other is real. His thumbs stroke my cheek bones like he’s examining delicate porcelain before one hand threads into my hair. He pulls me into him, letting his other arm wrap securely around my shoulders.