Melanie

I hesitate for a moment.

Ah, screw it. If I can't confide in my best friend, who can I confide in?

"You know, Marcus wants to talk to me," I admit, uncertainty lingering in my voice. "I've been trying to avoid thinking about it all day."

Evie's eyes widen at my revelation, and she responds with a surprised "Oh? He does?" I confirm, "Yeah, he does. Mallory told me yesterday that he wants to explain things."

Evie adopts a pensive expression, her curiosity evident. "Do you want to talk to him?" she inquires as she adds another set of towels to the cart.

I hesitate, my emotions conflicting. "I didn't, well, I don't know. It's complicated," I admit, trying to put my swirling thoughts into words.

Evie tilts her head, urging me to elaborate. I let out a sigh, feeling the weight of uncertainty settle in. "I didn't feel like there's anything to talk about. The whole misunderstanding is now solved, but something Mallory said has been troubling me."

"What did Mallory say?" Evie prompts.

I recount Mallory's words, "She mentioned that I would eventually meet with Marcus since he is Adam's best friend, so I'll probably see him again."

Evie contemplates this for a moment before responding, "That makes sense."

I glance at Evie, seeking her perspective. "Do you think I should talk to him?" I ask, the question hanging in the air, uncertainty written across my face.

Evie thinks for a moment before taking a deep breath. "You should talk to Marcus, Mel. There's no harm in that, right?" she suggests. "You're so sure about your feelings and what you want. It couldn't hurt to talk to him and set the record straight. It might even help Marcus move on, you know?"

I ponder Evie's words for a moment, the idea of closure settling in. After a thoughtful pause, I nod and say, "You're right, Evie. I'll talk to Marcus."

Evie grins, pleased with the decision. "That's great! Now, how about we look for some curtains?" she suggests, redirecting our focus to the task at hand.

As we browse through the curtain section, surrounded by an array of fabrics and patterns, I take a moment to bring up another concern with Evie. "Is it alright if I don't tell Daniel about talking to Marcus?" I ask hesitantly.

Evie responds, "I would have advised that myself, but I didn't want to overstep. It's your choice, Mel. Just make sure you're comfortable with it."

I nod at Evie's agreement and express, "It's probably for the best. Daniel needs some time before bringing up Marcus again."

Evie concurs, saying, "I agree."

Feeling a bit frustrated, I look around the curtain section and admit, "I'll probably leave the curtains for another day. We need measurements to order them, and I don't want to rush into it."

Facepalming playfully, Evie responds, "You're right. Measurements first."

We make our way to the registry, and I pay for the items we've chosen so far. With shopping bags in hand, we head back to my car, preparing for the next store on our list. At the next store, we focus on kitchen essentials. Pans, pots, casseroles, knives, cutlery, and cutting boards are meticulously chosen. Each item is a careful consideration for the new home I'm building.

After making our selections, I pay for the purchases. Glancing at the time, Evie suggests, "We might not have enough time for another store today."

I check my watch and nod in agreement. "You're right. Let's call it a day. We got quite a few things, and I still need to figure out where everything will go in the apartment."

Evie winks mischievously and suggests, "Why don't we head to your apartment now? We can unload the cars and put away all the new things we bought."

Excitement bubbling, I agree, "That's a great idea!"

We load Evie's car with the shopping bags from the kitchenware store, and then each get into our cars, with me leading the way to my new apartment. As we arrive, shopping bags in hand, Evie walks in, her eyes wide in awe. She exclaims, "This place is incredible, Mel!"

I smile and thank her, feeling a sense of accomplishment and pride in my new space. Evie continues to explore, whistling appreciatively. Setting the shopping bags down, I turn to Evie and ask, "Should we go get the rest?"

Nodding, Evie replies, still taking in the surroundings, "Yeah, let's do it."

Over the next couple of trips to the cars, we manage to bring in everything we purchased. As we unpack and arrange the newly acquired items, the apartment starts to feel more like mine, a place where I can create new memories and leave behind the complexities of the past.

I stand in front of my linen closet, admiring my work. Without thinking about it, I take my phone off my back pocket and I open it, navigating to find Marcus' contact. With a decisive tap on my screen –

Unblocked.

Marcus

The day stretches out like an eternity as I grapple with the reality that Melanie doesn't want to talk to me. Every passing hour feels like a weight on my chest, a constant reminder of what went wrong. My mind has been absent at work all day, my thoughts consumed by the bewildering fact that she's shutting me out completely. I definitely didn't expect to hear that yesterday. How am I supposed to be patient when the one person I want to talk to refuses even to listen?

I find myself staring blankly at my phone screen, fingers tapping aimlessly on the desk. My phone, a useless device now, holds no promise of bridging the growing distance between Melanie and me. I know she has blocked my number, so essages and calls would be in vain. It's a realization that hits hard, and I toss my phone onto the bed in exasperation.

Maybe Mallory is right; perhaps Melanie just needs time to cool off. Mallory assured me that she'd attempt to talk to Melanie in a few days, to see if she could pave the way for a conversation between us. But a few days feels like an eternity when every passing moment without resolution intensifies the ache and longing within me.

I sink onto my bed, a sense of desperation gripping me as I hold my phone in my hands. My thumbs move hesitantly across the screen as I type a message, pouring my sincerity into every word. "I know you don't want to talk to me, but we really should talk. Please, talk to me, Melanie."

The words stare back at me, and doubt creeps in. A few minutes pass as I wrestle with the decision to send it or not. It's futile, a voice in my head insists. She won't get it. A heavy sigh escapes me, and in a moment of impulsive determination, I press send, watching the message disappear into the digital realm.

I toss the phone beside me and fall back onto my bed, a wave of regret washing over me. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Fuck, maybe we did go too far, pushed too far.

The phone buzzes, jolting me out of my thoughts. I snap my head in its direction, heart pounding in anticipation. Swiftly, I sit up and retrieve my phone, fingers trembling as I unlock the screen. I can't believe my eyes; it's a message from Melanie. Blinking a couple of times to ensure my eyes aren't playing tricks on me, I open the message with a mix of trepidation and hope.

"Let's talk."

A surge of relief washes over me, and a flicker of hope ignites. My fingers fly across the screen as I type, "Let's meet tomorrow after work. " The anticipation grows with each passing second, my gaze fixed on the phone screen as I await her response.

Moments later, a notification pops up, and I eagerly open Melanie's message. "Okay," it reads, followed by her question, "Where should I meet you?" A surge of relief and excitement courses through me. We're taking a step forward, a small yet significant one.

Tomorrow can't come soon enough.