Pulled (28 page)

“She doesn’t love him,” I stated in a flat tone, retreating to my desk and sinking into my chair. “I’m scared for her, Dad. If you saw the way he looked at her.” My body rippled with an involuntary shudder as I thought back to their interaction that night. “He was so control ing, so cold.” I snapped myself back, looking directly at Dad. “You know I’ve never gone after her al these years because I thought I was al owing her some amount of happiness. If she was

happy or even satisfied, I’d leave her alone. But, Dad, if you looked into her eyes and saw her face, you’d see that her soul is dead. She can’t live without me any more than I can live without her. I just can’t believe it was an accident that we both ended up here in Chicago. She loves me. She needs me.” I stressed the words. “I know she does.” Dad inhaled deeply and sat on the edge of my desk. “This is real y complicated, but I can’t doubt you. You know Melanie better than anyone else. You do know this could get real y ugly, right?”

I nodded. Of course I knew, but she was more than worth it.

“Then I want you to give her a few days to think things through.” He looked at the wal , seemingly focused on some nonexistent object. He then suddenly looked down to me, determined. “And then go bring me back my daughter.”

My eyes fluttered opened, a faint glow of light barely il uminating the room. My arms were wrapped around my pil ow, her scent stil surrounding me.

I smiled into the cotton as I rol ed myself over. I glanced at the clock—six thirty-seven in the morning.

I’d dreamt of her again. Beautiful visions of Melanie replaced the nightmares that had plagued me for the last nine years. Instead of waking to the crushing pain, I woke to the memory of her soft skin beneath my hands, my fingertips ghosting trails over her cheekbones, her body reacting to mine. It had been a long time since I’d felt so alive. The dreams were more real than the agonizing reality I’d faced without her. For five days, I had waited. Those days had been spent longing for her, unable to concentrate on anything except her, just biding my time. Today that time was up. Today I wouldn’t stop until it was al out. I wouldn’t rest until I knew everything. I wouldn’t give up until Melanie Winters knew I would love her forever.

July 2000

Four months without her. I had been lying in bed
for three days, consumed with nothing but Melanie. Every
thought was of her and what she was doing.

It was as if I’d been living for months without my
soul.

Overwhelmed with grief, I lived day-to-day, just
waiting for Melanie to come back to me.

She had gone back to Dallas with her mom. I
had begged her to come home with me, but she insisted
she needed time alone to deal with everything that had
happened. I knew that we needed to do it together. I
couldn’t begin to understand how she thought it would be
better if we were apart. Without Melanie, every second
would be torture.

But I had to respect her wishes. After all, it was
my fault, and even though she’d never admit it, I knew it
hurt her to even look at me. I’d caused all of this, and I
feared she would never totally forgive me.

That thought alone nearly killed me. Still, she
promised she would come back to me.

Worst of all was she thought it would be best if we
weren’t in contact during the time she was away. She said
she had to sort through it all, and it would only hurt worse if
I was on the phone telling her how much I missed her.

I longed to hear her voice, just one phone call to
hold me over until we were together again. I picked up the
phone a hundred times a day to call her, just to tell her I
loved her and that I couldn’t wait to hold her again. But I
knew that was wrong. How could I do something she asked
me not to do? Besides, Melanie’s mom would probably
answer. Peggy had made it very clear whose fault it was.

She would be happy if Melanie never talked to me again.

Peggy said she just wanted what was best for Melanie,
and it was obvious that
best
didn’t include me. So I waited,
going through the motions each day, waiting for my heart
to return to me.

I was ready to crack. I couldn’t continue like this
much longer. I hadn’t been to class in a week and had
barely made it out of bed in the last three days. I just
wanted to lay here until Melanie came back to me. I didn’t
have the strength to do anything else.

A knocking on the door jarred me from my
thoughts. I pressed the pillow harder over my head, trying
to drown out the incessant noise, but the pounding
continued, getting louder.

“Go away!” I shouted as I threw the pillow across
the room. Couldn’t people understand I just wanted to be
alone? Obviously not, because whoever it was just kept
knocking. Groaning, I stood up, my body aching from
disuse and weak from lack of food. I dragged myself down
the hallway, wearing only my boxers. I’m sure I looked as
near to death as I felt. Ready to take all my frustration out
on whoever was at the door, I swung it open, but stopped
when I saw who it was.

Stephanie.

Shit.

She stood in my doorway in a red tank top and
skirt, appearing nervous as she toyed with the end of her
blonde ponytail pulled over her shoulder.

“Daniel Montgomery.” She let out an audible
breath when she took in my appearance.

She’d been leaving messages me for the last
three days, wondering why I’d missed all of our study
sessions, and I’d never replied. We’d forged somewhat of
a friendship over the last year as study partners, and she
had convinced me to take physics over the summer
session, insisting it would help get my mind off things.

Last week I had decided to blow it off. I just couldn’t focus
on school right now. I guess I should have let her know.

“Why didn’t you call me back? I was getting
worried about you.”

She seemed relieved. I’m not sure what she
expected to find when she got over here.

I realized I was being rude, so I sidestepped to
make room for her to come inside. “Sorry, I’m just not
doing so great right now.” I stood there in nothing but my
underwear, feeling a little self-conscious.

“I figured as much, so I came to make you
dinner.” She held up a paper sack. “I thought you might
need somebody to take care of you.” Reaching up, she
caressed my cheek with her fingertips. Something about
her touch felt too intimate. My instincts kicked in, telling
me only Melanie should touch me that way. I eased back,
not wanting to offend the only friend I had, but not wanting
to encourage her. Hurt flitted across her face before she
scrunched up her nose.

“Ew! Daniel! Seriously, you smell! I bet you
haven’t had a shower in days. Go get cleaned up while I
make us dinner.” She grinned at me, nodding her head
toward the hallway. “And hurry up before I lose my
appetite,” she teased, trying to lighten my mood a little bit.

For a moment, it felt good to have a friend that cared
enough to check up on me.

It was hard being up here in Boulder all alone.

Mom and Dad tried to visit often, but with Dad at the
hospital working long hours, it was hard for them to make
it up more than every couple of weeks. Erin wouldn’t get
home from her trip backpacking around Europe for
another two months. She had been adamant that she
cancel her trip, feeling she needed to be here for me, but I
insisted that she go. There was no reason for her to stay
here when she could do nothing for me anyway.

And it wasn’t like I was the best of company.

But Steph came to take care of me.

I tried to smile at her and headed to the
bathroom. I turned on the shower and stepped into the
steam. I breathed in and it hurt. The slight pressure in my
ribs served as a constant reminder of what I had done, of
the damage I caused. I welcomed the pain; God knew how
much Melanie had suffered.

I sank down to the floor, hung my head between
my knees, and mourned. I missed her so much.

“Melanie, come back to me.” I prayed that she
could feel my plea.

I remembered Stephanie was waiting for me, so I
forced myself to stand and finish my shower. Dried and
dressed, I walked out to the kitchen. I stopped in the
entryway and watched Stephanie working at the stove. I
pictured my girl making us dinner. I grinned when I
thought about how excited Melanie had been as she
explored her kitchen for the first time, remembering just
how happy it had made her.

Stephanie noticed me standing there staring and
flashed a bright smile.

I grinned back.

“Thanks for doing this, Steph. You don’t know

how much it means.” This was what I needed, somebody
to force me out of the fog I was living in.

Sitting there eating the spaghetti Stephanie had
made, I realized I couldn’t stay here and wait for Melanie
much longer. I needed to bring her back to me, and I
couldn’t do that if I was wasting away in bed.

We had to move on. I would go for her, and soon.

It was early July, so Melanie would have finished
her correspondence courses by now and taken her finals
to finish school. I hated that she chose to finish high
school that way. It tore me apart knowing she wouldn’t walk
across the stage to receive her diploma, take pictures with
her family, and have that normal teenage rite of passage

—yet another thing that was my fault.

It was one of the many things I couldn’t change,
something I couldn’t take back. But what I could do was
end this suffering from our separation.

“Please, God, no!” I couldn’t see through the
tears as I tried to find my way back to the Dallas airport. It
poured rain outside, coming down in sheets, lightning
flashing through the sky every few seconds.

“Fuck!” I screamed, punching the steering wheel.

I screamed again as I rammed my head into it this time,
trying to feel something other than the unbearable pain
tearing through my chest. A horn blared behind me. I was
stopped in the middle of the road, disoriented and
unaware of anything around me.

Blindly, I pulled over to the side, curling in on
myself, gasping through my tears. “Melanie, how could
you? Please, God, no,” I begged. Vomit pooled in the
back of my throat as images flooded my mind of Melanie
touching another man. I pushed the door open and
purged. Rain poured down on my head and everything
spun. I felt like I was drowning.