“How is it?” Mom inquires, adjusting a jeweled barrette clipped into her bob.
West responds through a giant mouthful, “Divine.”
We fall into easy conversation, and I watch my parents kiss and cuddle with new eyes of appreciation instead of envy. I drink in my mother’s permanent smile and my father’s baritone laugh that always rumbles straight to my core. My heart flutters with joy, with gratitude, with life, as I swallow down the love in the room and let it warm me up.
My parents have never once allowed me to believe that my heart was wrong. Even on the bad days. Even when it was broken, weeping and bruised, they loved it anyway. They saw the beauty in it, flaws and all.
And for that, I know I am truly blessed.
Before I leave that night, I’m overcome with the need to do something. After I say my goodbyes to West and help my mother tidy the kitchen, I pull out my cell phone and open up my Hangouts app. My last message to Zephyr stares back at me, sent a few days after my disastrous video debut.
Me: Zephyr, oh wise one, you’re so good at giving advice. I was wondering if you had any insight into rejection.
He never responded.
Sucking in a breath, I let my thumbs dance across the keypad with one final message to the anonymous man with Charlie’s heart.
Me: I just wanted you to know that I’m doing okay. I realize you don’t care, because if you did, you would have checked in by now. You wouldn’t have left me doubting everything we shared together—doubting myself and my worth. I’ll never know what happened, or why you abandoned me, but I respect what we had enough to let you know that I’m okay. You were right when you said I stopped wilting a long time ago… but I think I’m finally blooming.
I don’t expect him to reply, just as I don’t expect a new text message from Parker to light up my phone face after I return home that evening and climb into bed. Swiping open the screen, my eyes scan over his message.
Parker: Hi
Oh, jeez.
An amused grin stretches my cheeks.
Me: Hi :)
I’m about to hook my phone up to the charger and go to sleep, not anticipating another reply, but a follow-up text buzzes through, causing my heart to stutter.
Parker: Just wanted to say that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Goodnight.
A breath sticks in my lungs, my eyes welling with stunned tears. The seconds tick by in slow motion as I re-read his words over and over.
And over.
Trembling fingers manage to put letters together to form something coherent, but nothing I say could possibly transmit the intensity of emotion swimming through my veins, shooting little shocks of happiness to my heart.
Me: That means more to me than you’ll ever know. Thank you.
Flipping off the bedside lamp and blinking away my tears, I fall into a peaceful sleep, nightmare-free, with my cell phone clutched against my chest.
When I pull into the support meeting parking lot the following week, he is standing outside, leaning back against the brick siding with his hands in his pockets.
Waiting for me?
The image steals my breath as I cross over to him from my car, greeting him with a small smile, my side braid bouncing along my shoulder in time with my steps.
Parker pulls up from the brick, tousling his hair with one hand as the other taps at the paint-smeared denim tapering his legs. “Hey.”
“Were you waiting for me?” I stop just short of him, watching his eyes case me, from my strappy sandals to my messy braid.
He swallows. “Yeah… I thought maybe you didn’t want to walk in alone. You know, after…” Parker heaves in a deep sigh, his attention shifting to the left, like he’s reining in his thoughts.
My hand lifts to grasp his bicep, squeezing gently. “That was sweet. Thank you.”
While I wouldn’t say I’m angry, I’m a little disappointed that he never contacted me after that heartfelt text last week. I messaged him the following day to see if he wanted to get together and grab lunch, but all I got was radio silence.
Parker’s jaw ticks as he stares at me, eyebrows knitted together. And then his tension releases with a long exhale, his eyes closing. “I shouldn’t have sent you that text.”
My heart sinks. “What? Why not?”
“Because it was sappy as shit, and now that it’s out there, I don’t know what to do about it.”
“Parker, it wasn’t sappy. It was beautiful and sweet.”
“It was embarrassing. You’re ruining me.”
My knee-jerk reaction is to feel outrage, to unleash my claws and sink them into him. But I reel back my emotions and try to understand him instead. His eyes look tired—swimming with confliction, worn and flustered. There’s no animosity there.
Parker genuinely has no idea what he’s doing.
He’s never been here before; he’s never had a reason to care or feel.
He’s never had a reason to say something like that, and I know that must be terrifying. Vulnerability is terrifying, especially if it’s something he’s not accustomed to.
“Listen to me…” My fingers trail down his arm until his palm is linked with mine, and I watch as his gaze follows. “You’re not ruined. You’re evolving.”
“Into a fucking pussy, apparently.”
“No, into a three-dimensional human being with complex feelings and empathy. There’s no shame in that.”
His head swings back and forth, as if he’s rejecting my claims, but his hand clamps around mine in a desperate, possessive hold. “This wasn’t supposed to be anything more than sex. I thought fucking you would get you out of my goddamn system, but all it did was bury you deeper. Bury me deeper. Now there’s no way out.”
My insides twist. “Are you looking for a way out?”
Parker’s eyes dance back to me, clouded with confusion, like he’s being pulled in two separate directions. It’s me versus the safety net of his lifelong complacency. “No,” he murmurs softly. Then a frown furrows. “I don’t know.”
Inhaling a shuddering breath, I remove my hand from his hold and nod my head, soaking up his answer. His indecision. “I think maybe you should think about this before we take it any further,” I tell him, glancing down at the pavement beneath my shell pink toenails. “And I’m not saying that out of resentment, Parker, I’m really not. I’m saying it because I have to protect myself. I have to protect my heart. I’m not sure it will survive another loss.”
When I look back up, his frown has deepened, his gaze tortured and searching. Parker’s Adam’s apple bobs in his throat while he considers my words. “I’ll never intentionally hurt you, Melody.”
“Intentional or not, it doesn’t hurt any less.”
He clenches his jaw, teeth grinding together. His chin falls to his chest, a hard exhale following, and when he pulls his head back up, he’s closing the gap between us. Parker’s hands reach out to clasp my cheeks, fingertips digging into the skin and causing a gasp to escape my lips. And then his forehead is pressed against mine, our noses touching, as he rasps out, “I’m so fucked.”