Chapter 15 #2
She nods enthusiastically. The smile she’s been wearing since we got on the road this morning brightens even more.
“This trip was such a great idea. I can’t remember the last time I went somewhere just for fun.
Usually it’s to visit my parents, or to go up to Lake Placid…
” Trailing off, Mel stares out the windshield at the narrow two-lane road stretching out ahead of us.
“Not that I don’t like seeing my parents. But this is different.”
I notice she doesn’t say she enjoys visiting Vince’s family, and I can understand why.
I’m sure they’re perfectly nice people, and from what Mel’s told me, they never held what happened at the fundraiser against her.
But it has to be hard for her, staying in the house where Vince grew up, steps from his old bedroom, feeling obligated to comfort his parents while keeping her own struggles silent.
Not that I don’t stay in touch with Kaia’s mom—her dad passed away several years ago—but it’s different.
We live on opposite sides of the country, for one.
And Kaia’s mother isn’t interested in having me visit.
We’re on decent terms, and I call her twice a year, on Kaia’s birthday and the day she passed away, but she’s never suggested more than that, and neither have I.
Now that I know how hard the visits are for Mel, I really don’t like the idea of her going to Lake Placid alone. Driving those winding roads by herself, feeling anxious and stressed, with no one there to support her…
Shit. I don’t just dislike the idea. I hate it. And I’d feel a heck of a lot better if I went with her.
Would Mel let me come with her? Or would she feel weird about it?
And if I did go with Mel, would I be meeting her in New York for the trip? Or would we be flying out from the West Coast together?
As they have more and more often over the last few weeks, I find myself thinking about the future. Not just my future, but one with Mel.
We haven’t talked about the future aside from short-term plans like where to have dinner on Saturday night or an upcoming bowling tournament with the team.
We talk about what we want to make for dinner the following evening, or a new series we want to watch that’s starting soon.
But when it comes to the long term? Neither of us has brought it up. And I have no immediate plans to do so.
Maybe it’s a classic case of the ostrich sticking its head in the sand. But I like Melissa being here, and I’m not eager for her to leave.
Actually, that’s a massive understatement. I don’t want Melissa to leave, full stop. Not in a week, or a month, or… shit. She could stay indefinitely, and I think I’d be okay with it.
I wasn’t expecting to feel like this when I asked Melissa to stay here.
If anything, I was a little worried that having someone else living with me—a woman, especially—would make me feel claustrophobic, or that it would trigger old memories.
But neither happened. Not even close to it.
Instead, Melissa fit into my life like she’d always been there.
Does that mean I still don't love Kaia? Of course not. She was the first woman I fell in love with. When we exchanged our vows, I meant them. When I imagined growing old, she was supposed to be by my side.
But something I’ve learned with Melissa is that love isn’t finite. Just because I loved Kaia doesn’t mean I don’t have room in my heart for Mel, too. I can love both of them in their own ways—Kaia as my first love, and Mel as the woman who showed me it’s possible to love again.
“Anyway,” Mel continues, “I’m really glad you suggested this.” She looks over her shoulder at the back seat. “And I bet Oscar will be happy, too. He’s going to love the Bigfoot toy we got him.”
I glance in the rearview mirror at the two stuffed Bigfoots sitting beside each other on the backseat.
The one intended for Oscar is larger than the other, and has stitched eyes instead of the button ones on the one Melissa’s keeping for herself.
“We’ll have to swing by the pet store on the way home for some treats, though. Since we didn’t find any earlier.”
Melissa rests her hand on my thigh. “He has plenty of treats. We don’t need to buy him more. He’s not going to remember what we said this morning about them.”
“But I promised,” I insist. And yes, I know she’s right. Oscar’s not going to remember that I mentioned treats before we left. But I will. “I just want to bring him something special, is all.”
“Ty.” She leans over the console to kiss my cheek. “You really love Oscar, don’t you?”
“How could I not?” I reply. “He’s a great dog. I know he’s not mine, but—”
“That doesn’t matter,” Melissa interrupts. “Dogs don’t care about stuff like that.” She kisses me again. “And neither do I.”
I reach over to cover her hand with mine. “Have I told you how amazing you are lately?”
Pleasure pinks her cheeks. “You’re amazing, too.”
We fall into a comfortable silence after that, allowing the soft melody of the folk music playing on the radio to fill the car.
The word love weighs heavy on my mind, just as it has more and more often over the last few weeks.
I haven’t said anything to Melissa yet, but I don’t think I’m falling anymore. I think I’m already there.
Why haven’t I told her? I’m not sure. Caution?
Uncertainty? Fear? I know I don’t want her to leave, but when it comes to saying those three words, something’s holding me back.
Which is stupid, because I didn’t have any problem telling Mel I was falling for her.
But actually saying I love you? There always seems to be a reason to wait.
Irritated with myself, I let out a small, exasperated sigh.
I’ve jumped out of helos into enemy territory.
Been on ops when we were outnumbered ten to one.
I survived the explosion that cost me my leg, and somehow made it through the worst time of my life.
But when it comes to expressing my feelings? Apparently, I’m a coward.
“Tyler,” Mel says after a minute or so. “I’ve been thinking. I really need to look for a job soon.”
“What?” Surprise makes me jerk the wheel, and the car veers onto the shoulder before I steer it back. “Why?”
When I glance at Mel, she’s giving me a curious look. “Because I need money?”
“What about the severance pay?” I ask. “Shouldn’t that hold you over for a few more months, at least?
” Or at least, it should, according to the calculations I made before suggesting how much money her employer should offer her.
And if I implied they’d be sued for millions if they didn’t?
I don’t feel the slightest bit guilty about it.
“It could,” she replies. “But if I want to have enough for a security deposit, I really need to start putting more away.”
“A security deposit?” I’m vaguely aware of my voice rising. “Why would you want a security deposit?”
“For an apartment. I’m going to need one, eventually.” As I glance in her direction again, I notice her smile has faded. “I love being here, but I know I can’t stay forever. So I’ve been thinking I should start making plans. Getting ready—”
“I never said you have to leave,” I interrupt. “Did I say something that implied—”
She shakes her head. “You didn’t. But I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation where you want me to leave, but feel bad about asking.”
“What?” I’m trying to keep my eyes on the sharp curves of the mountain road, but I keep stealing quick glances in Melissa’s direction. “Who said anything about me wanting you to leave?”
Small lines form across her forehead. “You didn’t. But I would hate to overstay my welcome...”
Suddenly, the future I’ve been dreaming about with Melissa in it—road trips together and lazy weekends watching The Office and introducing her to my friends and family—takes an unwelcome detour. The new road is an empty one, devoid of the happiness I’ve begun to get used to again.
And shit, I don’t want to be there.
“Shit,” I mutter before I can stop myself. “This is my fault.”
“What’s your fault?” Melissa asks.
But I don’t answer her. I’m too wrapped up in my burgeoning panic. All I can think about is my life without Mel in it.
I don’t want to go back to an empty cabin and an empty bed and shit, an empty life—
I should have told her already.
Dammit, if I’d told Mel how I really felt, maybe she wouldn’t be talking about leaving.
“Tyler?” Her hand squeezes mine. “Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?”
“No,” I reply. My chest feels like it’s caving in. “You didn’t say anything wrong. It’s just—”
Just what? I’ve been too much of a damn coward to tell her the truth? That I can’t bear the thought of being without her?
Or… I can fix this.
It’s not too late. Glimpsing a possible solution, I grab hold of it. Just because she brought up moving doesn’t mean it’s happening. If I tell Mel how I feel, if I ask her to stay… maybe she will.
As I work to gather my thoughts, I ask, “Do you want to move? Or are you just saying that because you think I’ll want you to?”
Melissa hesitates.
My stomach drops to my feet.
She wants to leave. And maybe I can’t—
“It’s not that I want to leave,” she starts. “But—”
From behind us, a pickup truck approaches with a heavy roar of its engine. Its silver grill looms large in the rearview mirror, getting closer by the second.
Though it could be nothing other than an impatient driver, I’ve heard too many stories and seen too many things not to be immediately on alert.
“Hang on,” I tell Melissa, cutting her off. “I want to keep an eye on this guy.”