I get that you’re pissed off at me, but this is a bit ridiculous. I get that you think I fucked up by not letting you talk to Xavier, but you have to understand where I was coming from. Over the time you two were together, I saw the way you started turning to him for permission to do anything. The way you made every decision based on what he would think. I saw you losing yourself and it killed me.
The night that you decided to go to the party with me, I felt like a proud mama. Yeah, it’s stupid and cheesy, but there it is. You didn’t call him ahead of time, you didn’t change your outfit twenty times so you were wearing something he would approve of. You did what you wanted to do.
And then X had to go and fuck that all up too. The minute he showed up, with all of his macho-bullshit attitude, you followed him out of there and I thought I had lost you.
When you called the next morning, begging me to give you a ride and let you crash at my place, I was happy. You finally realized what he was doing to you and you got out of there.
I don’t bother reading any more of the letter. For a second, I allowed myself to hope that my so-called best friend had realized that she was wrong to make decisions for me without me having any knowledge, but with every paragraph, it seemed more and more like she was trying to get me to see her side of the situation. She’s delusional if she thinks there’s anything she can say that will make me throw my arms around her in gratitude.
“Miss Melanie, can we go back to my house now?” Jacob asks, tugging on the hem of my shorts. I should have had him stay with his dad while I came over here. That way, I could have jumped in the shower to wash off the road funk. And I would have had privacy to call and tell Stacey to piss off and stay out of my life. Okay, so maybe it’s for the best that Jacob is here. But I still want a shower.
“Yeah, buddy. Can you grab Brody’s toys?” I point to a small canvas bag on the floor by the entrance.
Spaghetti. It’s going to be one hell of a mess, but it’s simple and I have all of the ingredients for it. Looking through my pantry and refrigerator, I briefly wonder if Tyler would be interested in doing my grocery shopping every week. It’s as if Melanie told him how hopeless I am in the kitchen and he took the time to get simple meals that even I can’t screw up.
No, you have to do this eventually. You cannot lean on everyone around you to help you get by. Especially not her.
I still have my concerns that moving in to an apartment so close to Melanie is a wise choice, but then again, I wasn’t given a choice. Melanie, being the nurturer that she is, decided that we were going to be her neighbors and that was all there was to it. What I haven’t told her is that being close to her is part of why I contemplated staying in North Carolina. When she’s near, it’s as if something short circuits in my mind and she’s all I can think about.
The door opens and my head whips to the side as Jacob and Brody pass me in a blur. “No running inside, Jacob,” I warn him. I have a feeling this is going to be an issue for a while, but he needs to learn that we have people living below us who don’t want to hear him thundering across their ceiling all day and night.
Seeing Melanie walk through my front door settles something inside of me. It’s something about the way she nearly floats through the rooms, as if this is where she belongs. And in those moments when I’m not pissed off at the world over the fact that it should be Alyssa who is here with me, I feel like this is where Melanie belongs.
Every day, I tell myself that she and I are friends that that is all we can ever be. It doesn’t matter that we’ve fallen into a routine where we work together to make sure every day is a good day for Jacob. It doesn’t matter that she makes every day better for both of us. None of that matters because it’s been six weeks since I lost my wife and I would be a complete asshole to even think about moving on with anyone else, especially the woman who inadvertently caused so much pain for Alyssa when we first got together.
But then, I look at her rolling around on my living room floor, wrestling with Jacob and I start to question my sanity. Someday, the day is going to come when I do want to move on. Not for myself, but for Jacob. He deserves the best life possible, and I know that I’m not equipped to give him everything he needs. And when that day comes, will I find another woman who will love him the way Melanie does? Is there another woman out there who will embrace the fact that there was someone before her and encourage Jacob to remember her? There is no handbook for dealing with this shit, but there really should be.
“Miss Melanie, are you and Brody going to spend the night with us?” Jacob asks as he tries to catch his breath. I know what her answer is going to be, but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t feel like a slap in the face.