Page 130 of Broken Lines

Shit.

I erase the distance between us in a second, grabbing her in my arms. My dumbass Bogart “here’s lookin’ at you, kid” fantasy shatters, and I hold her fiercely as she cries into my chest.

I know she has to go. Of course, she does. She’s got a life back in the real world, and friends, and a job.

And I’ve got…well, I almost want to make a self-depreciating crack about “whiskey, drugs, and no one around to annoy me”. But it suddenly hits me that my weird romcom-tinged fantasy about “leaving her better than she was before” is actually the opposite of what it really is.

I’m the “her” in this situation.

I’m the oneshe’sleaving better off than I was before.

I just hate that the “better off” part comes with the “her leaving” part. I mean I really, really fucking hate that part.

“I…” she sniffs into my chest, her fingers digging into me. Slowly, she raises her tear-streaked face and her swollen eyes to me. Her lip catches in her teeth, and my heart clenches.

“I could come back…I mean, if it’s okay, I could—”

“I think I’d like that a whole lot.”

She grins, her face flushing.

“I mean, someone has to clean up your shit.”

“For sure.”

“And keep you from drinking yourself into a coma.”

“There’s that.”

“And write hit new songs for you.”

“Calm down.”

She giggles, choking on a sob as she hugs me again.

“Come on,” I growl quietly. “Or you’ll miss that ride to the airport.”

She nods, and her hand slips into mine as we walk out of the house and down to the dock. Across the bay, Albert’s nobly volunteered to drive her to the airport in Bangor, where she’s catching a flight back to New York.

The boat skims across the waves, the air stinging our cheeks the whole way over to Cape Harbor. When we get to the docks, mercifully, Albert’s out of sight getting his truck ready.

I use the opportunity to grab her, yank her into me, tilt her face up, and absolutely bruise the fuck out of that mouth with mine.

“You know my door is always open.”

“I know your door is alwaysunlocked,” she giggles as her chest hitches with a sob.

“So, just let yourself in when you come then, yeah?”

She nods vigorously, wiping tears from her eyes as they lock with mine.

“Count on it.”

“Hey Mel!” Albert’s voice shatters the moment. “You ‘bout ready?”

Melody pulls away from, her hands locked with mine until those too slip away.

“I’ll be back,” she mouths quietly.