My gaze settles on something I haven’t forgotten. Somethingthat’s weighed on my mind since I saw it.
Melanie’s letter.
He turns to it, his sad expression returning. “Can’t we justenjoy this moment?”
I glare at him. He knows better.
“Aren’t you tired of running from this?” I ask.
Releasing me, he approaches the desk and picks up theletter, which is even more crumpled up now that I had it in my clothes.
He tears it open and pulls out a four-by-six-inch photograph.It’s the only thing inside.
The picture is of a woman—certainly Melanie—in her thirties withshoulder-length blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Beside her is a man withdark—nearly black—hair. They stand before a painting with a 1stprize blue ribbon on the side
Melanie cradles a baby in her arms, which is wrapped in a blueblanket. She has a bright smile on her face, her eyes glowing with light. Thisdoesn’t look like the woman Reese described. Jaded. Bitter. Destroyed. She’shappy. A woman filled with life and zest and with the whole world ahead of her.
Reese’s face trembles, and he bursts into a fit of tears,pressing his thumb into the picture so hard that it bends.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” I say, wrapping my arms around him forsupport. “I guess it’d be hard for anyone to see their wife moving on.”
He shakes his head. “No, it’s not that. It’s just…I thought I’d ruinedher life forever.” He continues sobbing, fighting to speak through the tears.“And I’m so happy to see that she’s smiling again. That no matter whathappened, I didn’t take that from her forever.”
I study the painting behind her. It’s just like the one inReese’s living room. A profile of a man staring off.
“It’s that same painting she did before she left,” he explains.“She had it in the garage. Hadn’t shown it to me, and when I found it, I knewthat it was over. That this was all she saw every day when she looked at me.And I knew that I had to save her.”
“Looks like she turned that pain into something reallyproductive,” I say, acknowledging the honor she received for using thatinspiration as she was moving on. “So you’re clearly still her muse.”
He nods as the tears continue rolling down his face.
He flips the photograph over, and on the back, a handwrittenmessage reads, “I miss you. Please call me.”
He drops the photograph and loses it in another fit of tears. Heturns to me and wraps his arms around me, crying against me.
I hug him, holding him close, being there for him now the way Ialways want to be there for him.
“She’s happy, Jay. She’s really happy again.”
I hear the relief in his words. How good it feels for him toknow that he didn’t kill her like he thought he had. And I’m so glad that I canbe here for him once again. That I can share this moment of ease with him wherehe’s free of a demon that has haunted him for so long.
“See,” I say. “Even if you do totally ruin my life, I’ll getbetter.”
He laughs against me, and his sobbing transforms into a loudlaugh as he pulls away from me, a bright smile across his red face.
He wipes at his eyes with the back of his hands. “You’re awful,”he says, but he’s all smiles now. And I’m glad that I can be here for that.
As he stops wiping at the tears, he gazes at me again, his smilesettling slightly.
“Thank you so much,” he says. “You have no idea what it means tome that you came here today. That you didn’t run when you could have. And thethings that you said…that you’re even willing to forgive me for being a totalasshole.”
“Whoa, whoa. I didn’t say you were forgiven for that. You’rejust going to have to put in a lot of hours and work on this body to make upfor it.”
“You’re fucking amazing,” he says, leaning in and kissing meagain.
We enjoy each other’s affection until we calm down from theexcitement of the morning. Then we part to do our jobs. But there’s an ease asI work today. In knowing that, when I get back to Reese’s place tonight, we’reon the same page. That we both know how the other feels and where this isreally going, and that he isn’t going to try and pull some stunt like he didlast night. It won’t be easy. Nothing about being with Reese has been easy, butI’m not with him because I want it to be easy. I’m with him because I careabout him so much, and because since he’s come into my life, it’s become somuch better. Because he’s made me a better person and made me want to be abetter person.
And I just know there’s so much more happiness in store for us…
