Page 38 of Reclaiming Love

Chapter 22

“You told him outright?” Heather gave her a look that blatantly told her she didn’t believe her.

Melissa nodded. “It’s God’s honest truth.”

She’d come home in a daze, every so often looking over her shoulder to see whether she was being followed. But then she would shake her head at the absurdity of the idea. Matt might be controlling at times, but he wasn’t a stalker.

She’d barely walked through the door when Heather glanced at her and seemed to know that something had happened.

“When did you realize?”

“When did I realize what?” asked Melissa, absentmindedly.

“That the guy was an asshole.” Heather was blunt, if nothing else.

Melissa crossed her arms defensively. “He’s not always a total asshole.”

“No? Maybe one percent of the time he isn’t.” Heather crossed over to her and laid an arm on her shoulder. “He wasn’t any good for you, Mel. You know that, right? And you did the right thing.”

Melissa rubbed her hands together. She felt subdued, not euphoric. Weighed down by heavy chains, not free. A sense of foreboding stayed with her—like an irritating eyelash skimming the surface of her eye. She didn’t feel completely at ease.

Her friend gave her a sympathetic look. “It’s not going to be easy. I know you liked him. This will make it better.” Melissa smiled as her friend walked over to the refrigerator. A part of her felt relieved that she had done the hard part—that she’d said the words to him. She knew there would be consequences, but the hard part was behind her now. Tomorrow, on New Year’s Eve—she’d start the year unburdened, single, and free.

“What are we doing tomorrow?” she asked, watching Heather retrieve a huge tub of Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice cream from the freezer.

“Before dinner?” asked Melissa, eyeing the large tub with both delight and apprehension.

“It’s totally warranted.” Heather got out two spoons, when the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it. You start.” She handed Melissa a spoon and disappeared.

Melissa peeled back the ice-covered plastic lid and got ready to scrape out a ball of smooth, velvety brown happiness.

Until his voice filtered through to the kitchen. The hairs on the back of her neck bristled and the spoon remained suspended over the frozen chocolate. Slowly, she turned her head in the direction of the hallway. Her ears strained to hear.

“She doesn’t want to see you.” Heather’s tone was brutal.

“I don’t want to talk to you; I want to talk to Melissa.” Matt’s voice teetered on the brink of eruptive anger. Melissa got up and headed towards the door. Matt lifted his head and stared straight at her. “Mel—we need to talk.”

Heather turned and gave her a frosty stare. “You don’t have to do anything.” She refused to move, standing at the door with her arms folded across her chest.

Melissa walked to the door. “It’s okay,” she told Heather. Her friend’s face looked like thunder. “I can take it from here,” Melissa insisted, though she wasn’t sure if this was more for Matt’s benefit or hers. Heather stormed off.

Inhaling deeply, Melissa faced Matt. “Hey.”

“I want to talk. That’s all.” The plea in his voice tugged at her, putting her in a dilemma that made her feel torn between a sense of pity for him and loyalty to the friend she had just announced her feat of victory to. She stood in the hallway, not completely closing the front door, leaving it slightly ajar. Here would have to do. She didn’t want to take him into her bedroom.

“I’m sorry, Mel. Sorry about earlier.” He shifted from one foot to the next, still in his coat, with one arm resting on the strap of his backpack, as if he was about to take off at a moment’s notice.

Seeing him looking so defeated made her feel sorry for him. His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. “I can change.”

She leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath, unsure of what to say. So she said nothing.

“I will change,” he said again, thinking she hadn’t heard him. “I know I can be an asshole sometimes, but you make me want to be a better me.” His words made her look back at him. She shook her head. He wasn’t making this any easier for her. He took her hand and squeezed it.

“I don’t know.” She gave in a little. Let him still hold her hand.

No. This isn’t what you want. She was doing it again, giving him her power, letting him decide what happened. But she had already decided what was going to happen, had already made up her mind about what she wanted.

And Matt wasn’t it.

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