“On the contrary,” I say. “Tattoos are very permanent.”
“I don’t mean the tattoo.”
I nod, dropping the jokes. “Yeah, I know.”
She glances into a dark corner of the room. “It feels like I will wake up tomorrow to an empty bed and the distant sound of you cracking open a six-pack in the kitchen. I hate that my mind goes there, but I can’t help it.”
“Because we’ve been here before,” I say.
“Yeah, we have.”
“I told you I was serious about it when I really wasn’t. I lied to you, on purpose, because I was too stubborn to admit I had a problem.”
Melanie deflates. “Remember how we weren’t going to rehash this?”
“No, I think we should get it out,” I say. “Otherwise, it’ll fester and we’ll go right back to avoiding how we really feel and neither of us will be happy.”
She blinks with hesitation, her lips pressed firmly together.
I nudge the mattress into place before sitting down on the edge and facing Melanie. “I’m sorry. I wish I could say that for every time I lied to you, but we’d probably never leave this room again and it’s not like I can remember all of them anyway, so hopefully once is enough. And I know that once won’t be enough to win back your trust, only honesty can do that, so here goes…” I rub my palms on my jeans. “You’re right to be nervous. The truth is, the urge to drink is still there. Every day. Having you here makes it better, but sometimes… it’s worse. It’s habit and muscle memory. It’s the sound of your voice and the smell of your hair and all the other triggers that used to make me run out and drown myself, but I know something now that I didn’t know back then.”
“What?” she asks.
“How much it hurts to lose you.” I shake my head once. “I won’t make that mistake again.”
Melanie shifts slightly, her back straightening as she sits forward. “Rob, you know that this isn’t…” She pauses awkwardly. “We’re not… back together.”
“I know. Temporary insanity.”
“And we both know that anything more than that would be—”
“Actual insanity.”
“Exactly.”
“But we are in each other’s lives,” I say. “I won’t tell you I don’t want more than that, you know damn well where I stand when it comes to you and me, but I will not let my selfishness ruin our friendship the same way it ruined our marriage.”
She smiles. “Our friendship?”
“I always thought it was the best part of us. Not that the sex isn’t great,” I add quickly, deepening her smile. “I enjoy that very much, but the lengthy conversations we’d have all night about absolutely nothing or the way we could just… sit with each other. How we used to read the same book and talk about it over pizza. I never had that with anybody before. I didn’t realize how much I appreciated it until I looked up one day and you weren’t there anymore.”
Melanie licks her lips. “It was nice having someone to talk to about books. Nora and Trix don’t read much.”
“Roger does, but…” I wince. “Dude reads some weird shit.”
She chuckles. “I guess friendship with Robbie Wheeler has its perks.”
“And benefits, as those in your business often say.”
“As we often do.” She looks at me, her eyes softer than before. “You know, every man I’ve ever written has a bit of you in him… and they haven’t quite been the same since we split.”
I nod. “Yeah, I know.”
“You do?”
“I’ve always been your biggest fan, Mel, you know that.”
We stare at each other through years of baggage but, strangely, there’s no tension. No fear of endless drama.
It’s just the best parts of us.
“Boy,” she says, looking away, “we just rehashed the shit out of that, didn’t we?”
“It wasn’t so hard, was it?” I ask.
She inspects herself. “We’re both relatively unscathed, I suppose.”
“Yeah, you’re an easy broad to talk to when you’ve got nowhere to go.”
She laughs as she discreetly wipes her cheek. “And it’s still fucking snowing.”
I glance out the window, barely able to see the next building over through the thick, white haze. “I’m okay with it,” I say.
Melanie smiles, her shoulders relaxing as she sinks even deeper into her chair. “Yeah,” she whispers. “Me, too.”
Sixteen
Robbie
Another snow day. Another chance to make Melanie fall in love with me again. If I believed in rituals and rain dances, I’d be up on the roof nightly sacrificing virgins to the snow gods if it meant she would fall asleep in my arms like this whenever I wanted her to.
Melanie hums pleasantly, her naked body draped over mine on the couch. “This is nice,” she says.
I run my finger down her back until I reach the blanket on top of us, then I travel right back up again. “Yeah,” I say, half asleep.
“What were we talking about?” she mumbles.
“I don’t remember,” I say, chuckling.
I really don’t remember. Whatever it was, it’s not important right now. What is important is living in this moment and memorizing every detail before it’s inevitably torn from me like—
There’s a knock on the door, quick and urgent.
Kind of like that.
Melanie rises an inch. “Who’s that?”
I force her head back down. “Just ignore it,” I say as the knock strikes again. “They’ll go away.”
“Robbie?!”
We both jolt in surprise.
“Nora?” Melanie whispers.
“Robbie, please be home!”
Melanie pushes up. “What is she doing here?”
“I don’t know.” I sit up, now fully awake. “Hold on a sec, Nor!” I shout at the door.
“Why would you do that?” Melanie scolds me. “Now she’s going to come in here.”
I blink. “So?”
“So, she can’t see me here!”
“Why not?”
She opens her mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. “Because— it—” She wraps the blanket around her. “I’m gonna go hide.”
“Seriously?”
“Just don’t tell her I’m here. She’ll make a big thing out of it.”
“A thing?”
“Don’t tell her.”
“Rob, you okay?” Nora asks behind the door.
Melanie shuffles out of
