Melanie

I can't move. I'm stuck in this chair, staring at the door Daniel just walked out of. My emotions are overwhelming, crashing over me in relentless waves, but the most potent of all is guilt. Guilt consumes me, twisting my insides into knots, as I replay the scene that just unfolded in my mind.

Guilt that I left Daniel, who struggled so much, who worked so hard to be in a relationship with me. Guilt that I broke him to the point of crying uncontrollably in front of everyone in this café. Guilt that, while Daniel was probably broken about the end of our relationship, I've been spending my time and my nights with Marcus.

My stomach churns, and I feel like I'm going to throw up. How did things get so messed up? How did I let it come to this?

Someone takes my hand, and I look up to see Mallory's concerned face staring back at me. Her touch is gentle, comforting, but it only serves to intensify the flood of emotions raging inside me.

"Are you okay?" she asks, her voice filled with genuine concern.

Tears well up in my eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. I shake my head, unable to find the words to express the turmoil raging inside me.

A waitress appears beside our table, interrupting the heavy silence that hangs over us. "Will you be needing anything?" she asks, her voice tinged with sympathy. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner, but it seemed like things were intense at your table, and I didn't want to intrude."

Mallory shakes her head, her expression grave. "No, thank you," she replies quietly. "Just the bill, please."

Adam stands up abruptly, his resolve evident in his stance. "I'll take care of that," he says firmly, his eyes meeting Mallory's with unspoken understanding. "You stay with Melanie."

Mallory nods gratefully, her gaze never leaving mine. "Thank you," she says softly, her voice filled with gratitude.

As Adam leaves to settle the bill, Mallory turns her attention back to me, her concern palpable. "Do you want to leave, Mel?" she asks gently.

I nod weakly, feeling utterly drained and emotionally spent. "Yes," I whisper, my voice barely audible over the din of the café.

Mallory helps me to my feet, her touch grounding me as we make our way towards the exit. I feel like a ghost, moving through the world in a daze, disconnected from everything around me.

The cool evening air hits me like a welcome relief as we step outside, and I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. Mallory wraps her arm around my shoulders, offering silent support as we walk down the street.

Mallory asks me where I parked my car, her voice gentle and reassuring. I gesture in the direction of my car, and we start walking that way. Each step feels heavy, burdened by the weight of everything that just happened.

We arrive in front of my car, and Mallory turns to me, asking for my keys. I fumble in my pocket and hand them over without a word. Mallory unlocks the car and guides me to the passenger seat.

"What are you doing?" I ask, confusion lacing my voice.

Mallory gives me a gentle smile. "You can't drive like this, Mel," she says softly. "I'm driving you home."

I nod, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over me. "Thank you," I whisper, feeling a lump form in my throat.

I sink into the passenger seat, feeling utterly drained. Mallory walks around the car and slides into the driver's seat. She pulls out her phone and makes a call.

After a few moments, she says, "Hey, baby, I'm driving Melanie home, okay?" She's calling Adam, and the tenderness in her voice tugs at my heartstrings.

I can hear Adam's voice on the other end of the line, though I can't make out what he's saying. Mallory's response is a soft, "I love you too," before she hangs up the phone and starts the car.

As we pull away from the curb, I close my eyes, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. Mallory drives me home in silence, and I sit quietly in the passenger seat, watching the scenery change through the window. The guilt weighs heavy on my chest, suffocating me with every passing moment. I can't shake the image of Daniel's tear-stained face from my mind, his brokenness a stark reminder of the pain I've caused.

When we finally arrive at my apartment building, Mallory parks the car, and we both step out onto the sidewalk. She links her arm with mine, as we make our way inside.

We take the elevator up to my floor, the ride feeling like an eternity as we stand in silence. When we reach my apartment door, I unlock it with trembling hands, the weight of everything that happened still heavy on my shoulders.

We step inside, and I sink onto the couch, feeling utterly drained. Mallory disappears into the kitchen for a moment before reappearing with a glass of water. She places it in front of me and sits down beside me.

"Here, drink this," Mallory says gently, her voice soft with concern.

I take the glass gratefully, the cool water soothing my parched throat. "Thank you," I whisper, feeling a lump form in my throat.

"Melanie, talk to me," she says softly, her eyes searching mine.

I take a deep breath, trying to find the words to express the turmoil raging inside me. "I just feel so guilty," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

Mallory's brow furrows with confusion. "Guilty? Why?" she asks, her concern evident.

"You saw Daniel," I say quietly, my voice tinged with remorse. "He's broken, Mallory. And it's all because of me. How could I do this to him, knowing everything he's been through?"

Mallory reaches out, taking my hand in hers. "Melanie," she says gently, her voice filled with compassion. "Were you happy with Daniel?"

I blink, caught off guard by her question. "What?" I ask, feeling a surge of uncertainty.

Mallory repeats herself, her voice steady. "Were you happy with Daniel?"

I consider her question carefully. There were moments, fleeting moments, when I felt a semblance of happiness with Daniel. But compared to the overwhelming joy Marcus has brought into my life, those moments pale in comparison.

I feel a pang of guilt at the thought, my heart heavy with the weight of my admission. "No," I whisper, my voice barely audible.

Mallory squeezes my hand reassuringly. "Then you made the right call," she says firmly. "Daniel is a big boy, Melanie. He'll get over it."

Mallory's words resonate within me, a beacon of reason amidst the storm of my emotions. Yet, despite knowing she's right, guilt still consumes me like a relentless flame.

"I need time," I finally say, my voice trembling with emotion.

Mallory looks at me with understanding eyes. "Time for what, Mel?" she asks gently.

I take a shaky breath, trying to compose myself. "Time to heal, time to move on, time to process the hurt I've caused," I reply, my words barely audible.

Mallory nods understandingly, her expression filled with empathy. "I understand," she says quietly.

She pulls me into a tight hug, and I lean into her embrace, feeling a sense of solace wash over me. We sit there on the couch, wrapped in each other's arms, finding strength in my sister's hug.

"Stay here tonight, please," I whisper.

Mallory nods, her arms still wrapped around me. "I will," she says firmly, her voice reassuring.

I pull back slightly to look at her, overwhelmed with gratitude for her unwavering support. "Thank you, Mallory," I say softly, tears welling up in my eyes.

As if on cue, the floodgates open, and tears stream down my cheeks in silent rivulets. Mallory holds me close, offering silent comfort as I let myself be consumed by the storm of my emotions.

I cry until it feels like every tear has been wrung from my body, leaving me drained and hollow. Mallory holds me close, her arms a comforting sanctuary as she soothes me with gentle strokes and whispered words of reassurance.

When the tears finally subside, Mallory holds me a little while longer, until I feel strong enough to pull away. She looks at me with concern etched in her features, her eyes searching mine for any sign of relief.

"I'll get you some more water, okay?" Mallory says softly, her voice a gentle melody in the quiet of the room.

I nod weakly in response. "Okay," I whisper, my voice hoarse from crying.

Mallory retrieves the glass from the table and makes her way to the kitchen. She returns moments later, a fresh glass of water in her hand. She hands me the glass, and I take it gratefully, the cool water soothing against my dry throat. Mallory sits back down beside me, her eyes filled with concern.

"Feeling any better?" she asks softly, her voice filled with genuine care.

I nod, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "I am," I reply, my voice stronger than before.

Mallory returns my smile, relief evident in her expression. "I'm glad," she says sincerely, her words a balm to my wounded soul. "I think you should take a shower and get ready for bed," she suggests gently. "Freshening up might help you feel a bit better."

"That sounds like a good idea," I say softly. "Do you want to take a shower too?"

Mallory smiles warmly at me. "I'd love that," she replies, "but you should go in first. I'll wait for my turn."

Returning her smile, I stand up from the couch and make my way to the bathroom. Turning on the water, I let it run until it's warm enough before stepping into the shower. Glancing at myself in the mirror, I pause, struck by the realization that I haven't texted Marcus yet. Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I unlock the screen, my fingers hovering uncertainly over the keyboard.

What do I even say to him? I wonder, feeling a pang of guilt gnaw at my insides. How do I explain what happened tonight without hurting him?

Taking a deep breath, I start typing, trying to find the right words to convey everything that's swirling inside me. After a few moments of deliberation, I finally hit send, hoping that Marcus will understand, even if I can't fully articulate the turmoil in my heart.