Melanie shrugs as she makes herself a sandwich. “There’s not much to tell. After you left, I put every ounce of attention into my coursework so I could graduate as quickly as possible. I started working for CompCare right after graduation and did that until I felt like I couldn’t stay there any longer.”
“Why did you quit?” I ask. It’s a question I’ve almost brought up several times, but didn’t want to pry. I’ve spent a lot of time doing that when it comes to Melanie, knowing that every fact I learn about Melanie is going to make me love her that much more. “You were always talking about how you couldn’t wait to be a nurse, to actually get out there and help people rather than learn about how to treat patients.”
“It was time for a change,” she sighs, sadness veiling her delicate features. “When you watch one patient after another pass away, have to meet new families knowing that you’re going to eventually be the one telling them their loved one’s fight is over, it gets hard. With every case, it took more of a toll on me, and it got to a point where I felt like I was losing a piece of myself every time someone took their last breath.”
Tears well in the corners of her eyes and I know we’re both thinking about the night Alyssa passed away. Even though I was devastated by my own loss, I still remember watching as Melanie tried to stay professional throughout everything. She held me that night, whispering assurances in my ear that it was for the best that Alyssa wasn’t in pain anymore. I know she didn’t do that for everyone, but I also know she’s too caring to not let every loss affect her.
“Thank you for being there,” I say, my voice rough with emotion. “As hard as it was, I’m glad it was you.” God, that sounds pathetic. “I mean, I’m grateful that it was you because no one else would have cared so much about taking care of Jacob and me. You didn’t have to do that.”
Melanie slides around so she sitting behind me, her chest pressed to my back. As she wraps her legs around my waist, she starts gently kissing along my spine. “I’m glad too,” she admits quietly. “I hate that you had to live through that and I’ll admit I wanted to quit so many times, but I couldn’t. I knew you and Jacob needed me there just as much as she did.”
I lean my head back, turning to her for a kiss. It’s a slightly awkward position, but I need to feel her lips against mine. Even if she won’t tell me how she feels about me, every touch gives me reassurance to tide me over. “I love you, Mel.”
As we eat, Melanie and I take turns sharing favorite memories from our weekend trips to the lake. I watch her face light up as she talks about canoeing for hours, trying to find hidden alcoves in the bluffs along the banks and make a mental note to plan a full weekend for us to come up here before summer is finished. I admit to her that I’ve often thought about the nights we spent around the campfire, watching the flames fade to embers before curling up against one another in our small tent. When I remind her about the plans we once had to learn to rock climb so we could tackle some of the more challenging areas of the park, she becomes giddy, asking if we can still do that. Immediately, I tell her I will call the local indoor climbing facility so we don’t waste any time, but my excitement is quickly replaced by reluctance. More than anything, I want to make her happy, but the fact is I now have to worry about making the best decisions for Jacob. I can’t blindly follow her adventurous whims anymore, knowing that I have a son who relies on me at home.
After we’re finished eating and the conversation begins to fade, I reach my hand out to her, pulling her off the flat rock. Hand-in-hand, we walk down the trail in silence. Now that I’ve started asking her the questions I avoided for so long, there’s one more I need to get out of my system. It’s the question that has plagued me since November.
“Why did you take the assignment?” I ask, turning my head away from her momentarily, second-guessing my decision. I just told her today was about us, not Alyssa, and yet here I am, bringing it up again. “I mean, you said you thought about trying to get out of it and you wanted to quit more than once, so why didn’t you?”