Let Love Heal

As I’m finishing getting my things in order for the morning, part of the perfectionism that will never leave I guess, Peyton comes into my room.

She’s leaning up against the door frame, smiling like an idiot. “Why are you so cheery? That’s very unlike you.” I stick my tongue out at her as she feigns a sarcastic laugh.

“I just came to tell you that you have a visitor.” She smirks again as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“Who the hell would be visiting me at,” I glance over at the glowing red numbers of my alarm clock, “ten on a Sunday night?”

There’s that silly smirk again. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to find out.” And with that she walks out of my room.

Pulling back the curtain on the front window, I take a look at the front porch to see who’s paying me a visit. When I see Bryan not-so-calmly pacing back and forth, one hand in his pocket, the other combing through his hair, the air is sucked out of my lungs.

I take a deep, calming breath, but it does nothing to ease my racing heart.

I open the door and step out into the humid summer air. Bryan stops his pacing and just stares at me with a lost look on his face.

Softly clicking the door behind me, I suddenly can’t find any words.

“Sorry for coming by so late.” He rakes his hands through his hair again and then folds them behind his head.

“It’s okay.” I motion to the front step and we take a seat. Perched on opposite sides of a somewhat wide step, we both gaze out into the night sky. As I get lost in the blackness that is speckled with thousands of points of light, the lines of Grace Potter & The Nocturnals’ “Stars” play through my head.

After a few beats of silence, we both say “So.” at the same time. “You go first.” I concede, mostly because I want to hear why he came here.

Propping his elbow up on his bent knee, he turns to face me. “I didn’t expect to see you … at the camp, I mean. Or living across from Bella’s, for that matter.”

“You can imagine how surprised I was to see Emmie, then. How come she’s here, Bryan?” His leg starts bouncing wildly at my question. Even though I’m shaking, I reach over and place my hand on his knee. When he calms down, I remove my hand, though it’s the last thing I want to do.

“It’s my parents. The divorce is a fucking shit storm.” He stares up into the night sky and with an unsteady voice, he continues. “My mom is not dealing well at all.” He pauses and sighs loudly. “She got really depressed and she started drinking.” After another brief pause, he adds, “A lot – a-whole-fucking-lot actually. It got so bad that my dad was going to file for sole custody for Emmie. The asshole who walked out on us actually wanted to take Emmie away.” An angry, flippant snarl escapes his mouth.

I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything. I just give him some room to breathe and think.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and looks over at me. “By some stroke of luck, the judge decided that he would give my mom one last chance if she went to rehab and got herself cleaned up. I drove down there to get her this past weekend.” He sighs loudly trying to gain his composure. “So while she’s away, Emmie is living with me. Hopefully it’s just for the summer.”

“Bryan, I’m so …”

“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry. I don’t want anyone’s pity.” His harsh words cut through me worse than any knife would.

Twisting my fingers together nervously, I recover my thoughts and try for something a bit more hopeful. “Emmie seems to be doing well, though. I mean she was really happy at camp.” I offer up a smile, but it goes unnoticed. “Where is she now?”

“She’s asleep. My neighbor is watching her,” he answers tersely. After a deep breath, he adds, “She’s doing better now that she’s not at home. But then seeing you …” The pained look on his face breaks my heart.

I want to believe that it’s not his intention to hurt me, but that belief is fading – quickly. “That’s why I tried to call. I just wanted to see what you told Emmie so that I don’t say anything to upset her.”

With his penetrating stare searing through my soul, I feel vulnerable, but for the first time in a long time, I feel alive. I feel renewed, like maybe there’s a chance that he’s seeing this new Melanie. Maybe he’s seeing how different I am. He always saw the version of me that I wanted to see myself as, so maybe, just maybe, he’s seeing the new me. But, when he looks away, I lose hope in that theory.

“I told her that we’re just friends now. She asked if we were divorced like Mom and Dad.” Well, damn. There goes that hope. I want to ask if he meant what he said when he told me that he missed me. I want to wrap my arms around him and take away his pain. I want to curl up against his side and fall asleep in his arms.

But this isn’t about what I want.

“So if she asks about us, just tell her that we’re friends. And if she says anything about my parents, tell her that they are trying to be friends too. She understands that. It’ll just make it easier on her.” His voice is resolved and guarded.

“I can do that. I do want to be friends, Bryan. I know I hurt you, but …”

He cuts me off again. “I don’t know if I can be just friends with you.”

Does that mean he wants to be more?

In a moment of bravery, I decide to share my feelings. Twisting toward him and grabbing his hand, he shoots me a shocked look at the contact. “Look, Bryan. I don’t want to be friends. I meant what I said on Friday when I told you that I miss you. I want to be like we used to be … no, wait … what I mean is that I want to be more than we used to. I’m different, now. I never …”

Just as the words “I never cheated.” are on the tip of my tongue, he stands abruptly and bellows a frustrated scream out into the darkness.

He turns toward me once more, his voice a smidge lower than a yell. “I loved you! I loved you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. And it meant nothing to you. We meant nothing to you.” On a growl, he turns away from me once again and stares up at the twinkling stars. “Fuck, Melanie. I needed you. These last few months …” His words get stuck behind the emotion he’s working so hard to stifle.

Unable to see him in this much anguish any longer, I stand next to him, but don’t touch him. “I can be here for you now. If you’ll let me, I can be your friend and then maybe …”

The rest of my sentence is swallowed whole by his kiss. His lips are on mine hot and fast. With one hand tangling in my hair, and another gripping hard at my waist, he pulls our bodies together. The feel of his hard muscles pressed up against my soft curves is more than perfect, more than heavenly. It’s a hard and passionate kiss, one that is sure to leave my lips swollen. His tongue licks and dips into the corners of my mouth, tasting me – no, devouring me. I inhale his sweet cinnamon breath – breathe it into my lungs, make it part of my existence.

Sucking hard on my lower lip, he pulls it into his mouth. He absorbs the groan of pleasure that I make when he bites on my captured lip. My arms wrap around his neck and tangle into his soft hair. Just as I’m about to pull him closer to me, he pulls away, leaving me breathless.

With our foreheads pressed together, he whispers, “Maybe what, Melanie?”

“Maybe we could …” I get distracted by his nose running up the length of mine.

“Yeah, maybe,” he states calmly with a hooded and lustful look on his face.

And then he walks away from me, confidently strutting toward his car - leaving me speechless, hopeful and completely confused at the same time.

* * *

Since I don’t have to walk to camp anymore, I can sleep in another thirty minutes. Which of course means that I oversleep. Jumping from bed, I call Will right away and let him know that I’ll be a few minutes late. He laughs at my harried and frantic voice, but tells me that it’s okay.

“Do you want me to come pick you up?” I’m sure that his offer has more to do with getting to talk to me alone than it does with getting me to work quickly.

“No, it’s okay really. My mom bought me a car this weekend. I’ll be there in like ten minutes.” I hang up