Marcus

Today

My fingers hover over the keys of my phone, uncertainty creeping into my mind as I contemplate what to say to Melanie. The forest around me is silent, and the only sound is the rustle of leaves beneath my feet. The feeling of her soft lips against mine still lingers in my thoughts, a bittersweet reminder of a moment that felt like a dream.

"Melanie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to complicate things. Can we talk? Please, don't shut me out again."

As I walk, my mind races. Did I do the right thing by kissing her back? Should I have stopped her? The guilt gnaws at me, and yet, a part of me revels in the memory of the stolen kiss. Melanie initiated it, but I reciprocated. It's a tangled mess of emotions, and I can't help but question whether I should be apologizing at all.

I pull out my phone and check it for the umpteenth time, hoping for a response from Melanie. Nothing. The silence is deafening, and the anxiety grows with each passing moment. Should I send another text?

The forest opens up, and I see the gleam of my motorcycle in the distance. The engine purrs as I speed through the winding forest path, the wind whipping against my face. I can't shake the image of Melanie's lips against mine, the softness and urgency of the kiss. It's a memory that both tortures and delights me, a reminder of what could be or what might never be.

My phone buzzes, and my heart skips a beat. I glance down, hoping to see Melanie's name on the screen. But it's just a notification from a weather app. Disappointment settles in my chest, and I let out a frustrated sigh.

The road stretches ahead, illuminated only by the dim glow of my motorcycle's headlights. I keep checking my phone at every stoplight, desperate for a response that doesn't come. The uncertainty is eating at me, and I can't help but replay the events in the forest.

God, why did she leave? She shouldn't have.

I navigate the familiar streets back to my house. The engine's rumble is a symphony of thoughts that echo in my mind. I park the motorcycle and glance at my phone once more. Still nothing.

Goddamnit, why did Adam and Mallory have to move so far away? I could use some company right now. I decide to send one more text, hoping to break the silence.

"Melanie, please, just let me know you're okay."

I enter my house, the familiar scent of home hitting me as I greet my family with a quick nod. I make a beeline for my room. Maybe I should follow Melanie's example and get a place of my own. It doesn't sit well with me, shutting out my family like this, but right now, I'm not in the mood for small talk or explanations.

Entering my room, I toss my phone onto the bed. The room feels stifling, and I begin pacing, my thoughts unraveling like a thread pulled too tight. Did she block my number again? No, she wouldn't do that. Would she? Fuck, I can't believe this is happening. It's not fair.

Just as I start to consider texting Melanie again, my phone starts ringing, jolting me from my thoughts. I dive onto my bed to grab it, seeing Adam's name on the screen. Fuck. I answer the call.

"Hey, Marcus, you there?" Adam's voice crackles through the line.

"Yeah," I grunt, frustration evident in my tone.

"You're on speaker phone, man. Mallory's here too," Adam informs me.

I take a deep breath, not sure I'm ready to recount the mess that just transpired with Melanie. "How'd it go with Melanie?" Adam asks, getting straight to the point.

I sigh, "I don't know."

Mallory's voice chimes in, "What do you mean you don't know? What happened?"

I pinch my eyes closed, trying to find the right words. "Everything was going well until we started talking about Saturday night. She's hurt by it all."

Adam interjects, "So what happened next?"

I take a moment before responding, "She tried to leave. I asked her if Daniel makes her happy, and she couldn't answer. She said it was complicated, and then..." I pause, the weight of the next words heavy on my tongue. "She kissed me."

There's a beat of silence on the other end. Then, in unison, Adam and Mallory ask, "She kissed you?"

"Yeah, she did," I confirm.

Adam probes, "Then why aren't you sure if it went well?"

I exhale heavily, the confusion and frustration bubbling to the surface. "Because she said we shouldn't have kissed and left like someone was chasing her."

Another moment of silence hangs in the air. I can almost feel their puzzled expressions. Mallory's voice breaks the silence, "Marcus, what are you going to do now?"

I sit on the edge of the bed, rubbing my temples. "I wish I knew, Mallory. It's a mess. I thought we were making progress, but now... I don't know where we stand."

Adam's voice cuts through, "Did you try talking to her afterward? Maybe she just needs some time."

I shake my head, even though they can't see it. "She's not responding to my texts. I don't know what to do."

Adam presses on, his tone serious, "You need to talk to her, Marcus. Get some clarity. Find out what she's thinking and what she wants. Don't let this linger."

"That's what I want, Mallory," I respond, determination in my voice, "but she has to respond to my texts for me to talk to her."

Mallory reassures me, "She will respond, Marcus. Maybe she just needs some time. Wait until tomorrow to send another text, if she doesn't respond tonight. It'll show her that you're giving her space and thinking about her, not pressuring her."

"Yeah, you're right. I'll wait. Thanks guys," I say sincerely. "I appreciate the support."

Adam interjects, "Anytime, bro. We're here for you."

The call ends, and I fall back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. Talking to Adam and Mallory has lifted a weight off my shoulders. I feel better, more grounded. The advice makes sense, and I decide to follow it. I'll wait until tomorrow before sending another text to Melanie. I want her to know I'm here, that I care, but I don't want to overwhelm her, just as Mallory said.

Residual tension lingers in the air, refusing to dissipate even as I lay on my bed. Maybe I should go for a run to shake it off? Just as the thought takes hold, my phone buzzes next to my head. I swear, if it's another app notification, I might just break the damn thing. Turning on my side, I prop myself up on my elbow and reach for my phone. It's a message. Holy shit.

My heart races as I unlock my phone, the anticipation building. The message is from Melanie. Fuck, yeah. Sitting up, I open the message, eager to know what she has to say. The words on the screen soothe the knots in my stomach.

"I'm okay, I just need some time to think. I'm not blocking you again, we'll talk soon"

Relief washes over me, and for a moment, I just sit there, processing the words. She asked for time, but it's only polite to acknowledge her message, right? My fingers hover over the screen as I contemplate my reply.

I type out a simple response: "I understand. Take all the time you need. I'll be waiting, as long as it takes." I read the message again and hesitate. The words feel heavy, and I read the message again. Should I erase the "as long as it takes" part? Does it sound too intense?

I erase the words and read the message again. It doesn't feel right. I type it again, "as long as it takes." Because it's true. Melanie showed me today that she wants this as much as I do. No matter how long it takes, I'll be here, waiting for the chance to make things right.

And I press send.