I move closer, wanting so badly to take her in my arms. “I love you, Melanie,” I whisper, slowly reaching for her. “I love you so much.”
I touch her shaking shoulders, but she pushes me away and makes a move toward the door.
“Don’t do that, Rob,” she says, sniffling.
“Don’t leave,” I say. “Please, stay here...”
If she leaves now, she’ll never come back.
If she never comes back, I won’t make it.
“Melanie.”
I follow her into the living room. She leans on the couch as she slips her shoes on.
“What do I need to do to make this right?” I ask.
She refuses to look at me. “It’s too late for that,” she says.
“Whatever you want, I’ll do it,” I say, following her as she goes to grab her purse. “You want me to beg? I’ll beg.”
“Stop it, Rob,” she says as she avoids me.
“You want me to strip down and let you whip me with my own belt in front of dozens of people?” I offer. “I know its been done, but if it works, it works.”
Melanie spins around to face me. “Rob, just stop. Okay. It’s done. It’s over.”
“No.” I drop to my knees and she stares at me with disbelief. “It’s not done. It’s not over. We’re never over, Melanie.”
“Yes, we are,” she says.
“You said that before, but look at us.” I turn up my hands. “Think about it. How many times have you walked out? How many times have I given up? But we came back again. The last few days were the best of my life, Melanie. Seven months ago, I never thought that’d be possible.”
She tries to step back, but I rest my hands on her hips. “Rob, don’t...”
“Just imagine,” I say. “Seven months from now could be the best days of our lives. We just have to get through this together first.”
She pushes my hands away, purposefully staring me in the eyes as she says, “No.”
I sink even deeper onto my knees.
Melanie grabs her jacket off the back of the door before throwing it open and walking out.
No.
Wait.
I rise off the floor. “Melanie!”
I chase after her, racing down the hall to catch up with her on the stairs.
“Admit that you need me,” I say behind her.
“I need to get away from you,” she says.
“You said it yourself. The men in your books, they all have a little bit of me in them and they haven’t been the same since we split.”
“That means nothing, Robbie.”
“It means everything!” I say as we reach the ground floor. “It means that you can shout and pout and do whatever the hell you need to do to get over this, but then you’ll be back because you can’t live without me just like I can’t live without you.”
She crosses the lobby without breaking stride. “Pretty sure I’ll do just fine, actually.”
“That’s bullshit and we both know it.”
She shoves open the entrance and steps outside, quickly throwing on her jacket. I ignore the biting chill in the air as I stay in pace beside her.
“Melanie,” I say.
She ignores me. She looks at the street, her arm at the ready to hail the first available cab.
“Melanie.”
“Just go back inside, Rob.”
“Not without you.”
She waves her arm, signaling a cab. “You know what I’m feeling, Rob?”
“Anger,” I answer.
“No,” she says. “Somehow, I’m not. I said I was done being angry with you and I guess I was right. More than anything, I’m disappointed. In you, but mostly in me.”
The cab comes to stop by the curb.
She presses her quivering lips together as she looks up at me, her eyes brimming with fresh tears. “I really thought you got it right this time,” she says.
Melanie enters to cab and closes the door, shutting me out.
Thirty-Six
Robbie
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
How did I fuck this up?
It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.
“Watch it, jerk.”
I pull back as a man’s elbow digs into my side. “Sorry, sorry,” I say, looking up and offering a half-hearted sympathy stare from my place on the sidewalk. Melanie’s taxi is long gone, but I’m still standing here like an idiot.
The man sneers at me as he bolts past, his balding head reflecting the green neon sign above us for the corner market beneath my apartment. I glance through the windows, my eyes instantly focusing on the liquor aisle near the counter.
Fuck.
Just walk away, Rob.
But I don’t. I stand still.
I weigh the obvious pros and cons.
Relapse is common. Most people fall off the wagon at least once. It doesn’t make them bad people, and it wouldn’t make me one, either, right? Roger’s fallen off twice, and he’s still a good guy.
What’s one drink?
It’s cold and warm and far too damn tempting. Seven months down the drain, but at least I’d stop feeling this way for one goddamn minute. No one would blame me.
Melanie’s gone. What do I even have to lose at this point?
I walk into the store. I head toward the whiskey at first, but the vodka catches my eye on the way there. If I’m only having one drink, then I want it to numb me down fast. Vodka’s best for that.
I buy a bottle. Just one. Twenty-three dollars and some change.
Seven months, I think to myself. Do I really want to throw that away?
Sure, why not?
Without Melanie, was it even worth trying to begin with?
I walk back to my building. I feel a rush of excitement as I climb the stairs. It’s over. I worked hard, but now I get to stop. I get to take a break. I get to sit down on my couch and have a goddamn drink because I deserve one.
I deserve to feel something other than this.
I enter my apartment. I smile at the satisfying crinkle of the brown paper bag as I pull the bottle out and set it on the counter. I stare at it, craving satisfaction just beyond the bottle cap.
It’s over.
It’s finally over.
I’m finally free.
I reach out, ready and willing to grab it,
